I'm Here For You
by slytherix
Summary: [Caulscott] What would happen if Nathan saw Max in the bathroom that day and instead of rewinding, she decided to make him aware of her presence? Surely, that can't turn out good, can it? [REWRITTEN]
1. Chapter 1 : Make Out Session

**WARNING**

 **This story will contain spoilers from Episode 1 to Episode 5. You have been warned.**

 **Also, foul language will appear throughout the story as well as the game's trigger warnings such as mention of drugs etc.**

 **Life is Strange is an episodic graphic adventure video game developed by Dontnod Entertainment and published by Square Enix. It's a truly enchanting, emotional and thrilling experience. I by far recommend You playing it Yourself if You haven't already.**

 **Although Max & Nathan pairing might not appeal to everyone, and I respect that, I strongly feel that Nathan deserves a chance, and Max is too hypocritical with him. Thus, I will make them happen, as it is by far my favourite couple from the game.**

 **Although I am not a fan of the first-perspective stories, I will write as Max to create a Life Is Strange-alike atmosphere, where she records her thoughts down in her diary.**

* * *

Chapter I, _Make out session._

* * *

A giant-ass log is thrown my way by the horrific wind of the lighthouse; leaving me no time to react but to stand still and allow for its heaviness to hit my head and break my neck with a loud snap, sparing no time for any pain to come.

 _That was so surreal . . ._ I wake up in Mr. Jefferson's class with a headache; _I must of have fallen asleep._ _Great job, Max Caulfield, as if your grades weren't bad enough._

 _Also,_ great way _to impress a hot teacher that is looking right at you, Max._

 _Ugh, is that . . ._ is that drool on my face _?_

 _Okay, calm down Max, it's okay, act_ natural _, breathe in and out, act like you totally weren't taking a nap just now in the middle of the class. You got it girl._

 _What are you staring at, Victoria?_

My attempt at concentration is shattered as soon as the memory of the bizarre dream rushes back to me. _Okay Max, calm down, you_ ' _re okay. That was weird, but you_ ' _re okay. No big deal, it was just one of those weird dreams you get after watching the weird-ass movies Warren recommends to you._

I notice that Stella picks up her pen, Taylor throws a paper ball at Kate and Victoria _'_ s phone rings. Mr. Jefferson asks Victoria a question and as usual, she, of course answers.

 _What a bitch_.

I touch my neck, the fingertips meeting cold sweat. _That dream_ really _did creep me out. Luckily, my head is still in one piece._

Mr. Jefferson lectures about beauty and innocence, and I listen. I admire him for being both, inspirational teacher and, a unique photographer. Oh, and he _'_ s _hot_ too.

''. . . beauty in a struggle,'' he continues. ''You don _'_ t have beauty without a beat.''

Kate sits quietly near the windows, miserable look plastered to her face. _I should ask her if she wants to hang out later. I could really use some of our tea sessions right now._

I turn to face Victoria. She makes an impression of being focused, where in reality, I know her intentions are purely evil - impressing Mark Jefferson and getting one of her minions to do her assignments for her, because it's not like she listens anyway.

Once my pounding heart has returned to its normal beat, I reach for my camera to take a picture for my _Everyday Selfies Portfolio,_ however, I don't realise that its sound is louder than Mr Jefferson's voice until it's too late and I have to steady myself for a wave of embarrassment that is about to come my way.

 _Man, are you cereal?_

''Shh, I believe Max has taken what you kids call a _selfie,"_ he speaks in a humorous manner, almost mocking me. "A dumb word for a wonderful photographic tradition. And Max. . . has a _gift_.''

 _I certainly do have a gift. Of making myself look_ stupid _for sure._ I sink into my chair.

He rants about photo portraits then of course calls on me but I don't even have the slightest idea about the things he _'_ s asking me about. I guess I should of done my homework, but I'm way too busy with . . _well_ , avoiding homework.

After packing up as the bell rings, I chit-chat with Kate and head out to the bathroom, seeking an isolation. Cold water refreshes my body and mind, the feeling leaving me relaxed and calm. However, the solitude of the room causes me to begin overthinking things, which has become my speciality by now. I take out the photo from my pocket that is, well, _was_ , for the Everyday Hero contest, and right now is being ripped up by the same hands which took it in the first place. _It's not like I would of won anyway_.

A blue butterfly enters through the window, and lands behind the corner. I move closer to admire it, thinking it being unusual, and a great opportunity for a perfect shot.

The animal almost sends out the spirit aura, the weird sensation giving me an uneasy feeling. I snap a picture and it flies away. A second later, someone enters the bathroom. Whoever it is, I freeze in place, embarrassed about hiding in a corner.

A male voice begins to speak in a low, but shaking voice. ''It _'_ s _cool_ , Nathan. _Don't_ stress . . You _'_ re _okay_ , bro. _Just_ count to three . . . ''

 _Hold on_ , I know whose _'_ s voice it is. Nathan Prescott _'_ s, one of the rich, popular kids, _I think_.

'' _Don't_ be scared . . . You _own_ this school . . . If I wanted, I _could_ blow it up . . . You _'_ re _the_ _boss,_ '' he states stressfully, unsure of his own statements.

 _What is he_ doing _here? What is he_ going _to_ do _? Is he having a panic attack? But why would he come to the girls' bathroom anyway? Is he too embarrassed about someone seeing him having a meltdown?_

I quietly move to take a peek at the situation. He leans against the sink, nervously shaking. If I was brave enough, I would leave my cover and give him some cheeky comment about his gender confusion. But I'm not, and so I remain in hiding until door opens again and I hide too quickly, my back slamming against the wall painfully.

'' _So_ , what do you _want?_ '' He asks confidently, assuring me that I haven't given out my hiding position by my reckless movement.

Is he _meeting_ someone here? _For reals?_ In the _girls_ ' _bathroom_? Why make such a big deal about whatever it is?

''I hope you checked the perimeter, as my step-ass would say,'' the other voice responds. It _'_ s a girl. _God_ , she sounds so _familiar . . ._ "Now, let _'_ s talk bidness.''

 _Am I witnessing some kind of a drug-dealing business between them?_

''I got nothing for you," the short answer seems hard in his voice, however doesn't seem to have had persuaded the girl of its trueness.

 _Maybe it's his ex-girlfriend or something?_ I didn _'_ t know he had a girlfriend . . . _Not that I care, anyway, it's not even surprising._ I happened to cross my ways with him before, but it doesn't need a genius to figure out that he's handsome and rich, what most of the girls - like Victoria, are falling for.

'' _Wrong_. You got _hella_ cash," she persists aggressively, causing the male to give her an annoyed look.

I peek further to see a blue-haired girl, dressed in _I guess_ _what_ _one would call_ punk or rebellious clothing. She looks . . . _nice_. _I didn't_ _know Nathan was into punks like her._ I always thought Victoria was his type. On the second thought, I've never seen him with a girl before.

''That _'_ s my _family_ , not _me."_ The atmosphere is getting tenser by each passing second.

''Oh _boo hoo!_ Poor little _rich_ kid. I know you _'_ ve been pumpin _'_ drugs n _'_ shit to kids around here. I bet your respectable family would help me out if I went to them. Man, I can see the headlines now . . . ''

 _I don't like where this is going. Should I . . . should I say something?_

''Leave _them_ out of _this_ , bitch!'' He shouts loudly, causing me to notice the frantic shaking of my hands.

 _Man, what have I gotten myself into?_ I know I was _not_ supposed to hear that. I want to leave, but Nathan would know I was here all this time and I do know _one thing_. You simply _do not_ get in the way of the Prescotts. _Ever._

''I can tell _everybody_ Nathan Prescott is a punk ass who _begs_ like a little girl and talks to himself!'' She pushes him, and then I see _it_. He has a gun. A _real_ one.

"You don _'_ t _know,_ who the fuck I _am or who you're messing around with!_ ''

 _What the fuck?! Is he gonna pull a trigger on her?!_

''Where _'_ d you get that? What are you _doing_? _Come on,_ put that thing down,'' _Oh my_ _God, she is terrified!_ I know that I must do something _now_ or he will pull the trigger. _But what, Max,_ what _?! Think!_

''Don _'_ t _EVER_ tell me what to do. I am so _SICK_ of people _trying_ to _control_ me!'' I feel sweat on my forehead. _What to do? What to do?! What to do! I have no idea!_

''You are going to get in _hella_ more trouble for this than drugs–'' I'm freezed with fear. There is not a single muscle I can move right now. All my body is allowing for me to do, is stare.

"Nobody would miss your _'punk ass',_ _would they?!_ "

 _I can't do anything . . . I can't_. . .

''Get that gun away from me _, psycho!_ " She cries as she pushes him, his finger pulling the trigger. She falls to the floor; he drops the gun immediately.

It takes me full five seconds to realise what had just happened.

Nathan finally notices my presence with a quick glance in the mirror. He doesn't need to face me directly for me to know that he is in as much shock as me. ''Caulfield, help me, please . . _please_ . . _shit ._ . no . . no no no . . . " The desperation in his voice causes a great lump in my throat to finally go away, so I can shout, but no sound comes out.

When it is clear that I do not intend to move, Nathan turns once again to the dead girl and falls onto his knees. He shakes her, knowing it's too late, rejecting the reality.

"I am going to get _so_ busted . . I-I didn _'_ t _mean_ to . . . _Everybody_ is just _pushing_ me . . "

I reach out with my right hand to stop myself from falling as I faint.

* * *

I open my eyes, adjusting them slowly to light. _Am I at the hospital?_

 _No_. . .

 _Can't be, unless Mr. Jefferson has decided to visit me._

His silhouette remains blurred in my vision, yet I can still recognise it.

I lift my hand up before my face, awaiting for my eyes to finally settle onto it. Once they are . . .

This is . . . Mr. Jefferson's class, _isn't it?_ _Why am I back here?!_

 _What the fuck?! Am I . . . Am I dreaming?_ _I passed out, didn't I?_

I try to swallow a massive lump in my throat as I wipe away the tears filling my eyes. _Maybe I've just imagined everything . . ._ _what kind of fucked up dream was that though?_

I slowly lean back, staring blankly at Stella picking up her pen. A paper ball is sent across the classroom, hitting Kate in the face. I turn my neck too fast to see if Victoria's phone . . . rings! _Shit_!

I push the camera off the table with my elbow as a reflex and it shatters into pieces as a result. I pinch myself. It hurts. It's _not_ a dream.

 _It's_ so _fucked up. Is this some kind of a sick joke?_ I feel like I'm going to throw up.

I stare intensively at the camera, not even slightly concerned about the damage. Finally, I bend to pick the pieces up, but they move back onto the desk by themselves.

A loud gasp escapes my mouth, causing Victoria to stare at me weirdly. I cover my lips with one hand, trying to calm the terrified heart. When it's at a slower pace, I reach to touch the camera, taking a selfie to check if it's working. It is, indeed. Jefferson gives me the same lecture from before.

 _This is so unreal . ._ _._

 _Should I go to the bathroom?_. . .

I pick up a pencil and snap it in half with a loud _snap_! Before anyone can react, I concentrate on it, and the item moves back to its original state.

 _Can I_ control _time?_

I . . . _rewind_ and when Jefferson calls out on me, I give him the right answer. Victoria's face is priceless.

 _I am a human time machine . . ._

When the bell rings, I pack my things back into the bag in a hurry, storming to the door, nearly running into it. Jefferson stops me like the last time.

He gives me some John Lennon quote so I do the magic trick again, and _I_ give him the John Lennon quote instead. _Max, you rock!_

I run to the bathroom, retracing every step. Then I wait. _Can I actually reverse time? Can I help that poor girl?_

* * *

I move the trolley, seeing a hammer underneath it. I pick it up shakingly and hurriedly smash the glass to turn the fire bell on.

''No way,'' Nathan's voice causes me to breathe out heavily. _It worked. It actually worked, I've distracted him! Max Caulfield, I think you've earned yourself the Everyday Hero title!_

"Don't _EVER_ touch me again, you freak!'' The girl yells, her voice followed by the door slamming afterwards.

I wait a moment. Thinking they're both gone, I hurriedly go out from my hiding spot. Unfortunately, Nathan is still there. He stares at me, eyes wide in shock.

 _O-o, spaghetti-O's . . ._

As I'm about to rewind, he picks up his gun and puts it back into his trousers cautiously, so I _think_ he doesn't want to kill me. _Yet._

''What the fuck are you doing here, Caulfield?!'' He yells as he gets up, his hands shaking, and I take a step back.

 _Oh, you know, just the usual. Preventing a girl from getting shot in the face by someone. Hint:_ A fucking you.

"What are _you_ doing here, Prescott? Last I checked, this was the _girls'_ bathroom,'' I answer furiously, too mad to fear. With this fucked up power, I can do anything. I can insult him over and over again and he won't be able to do anything about it. Hell, he won't even know. Besides, _you gotta stand up to the bullies._

''Oh, you think you're so clever, do you?'' He closes the space between us, wrecked look on his face. I take another step backwards, but my body meets the wall once again. I can tell he's scared, _we both are._

''What will you do about it, huh? _Shoot_ me?'' I intimidate him, and we eye each other with rage. There's a height difference between us and I have to look up, giving him the satisfaction of being the one in control. He's incredibly close and I can smell his expensive cologne. It makes me want to vomit.

"I didn't _mean_ to . . . I-I wasn't going to _shoot_ her!" He protests eagerly, causing me to clench my jaw. _You did exactly that._

The door suddenly opens, causing Nathan to turn around in shock, but he relaxes immediately after seeing it's _only_ the Blackwell security guard.

''What are _you two_ doing in the bathroom during a fire alarm, huh?! Explain yourselves this instant!'' The man steps in, waiting for our explanations, but Nathan sure as hell doesn't look eager to making up some.

It's not like he had to explain himself to anyone anyway. Especially not some _security guy_. Because Prescotts are _above everyone_ , they're _untouchable_. At least that's what _they_ think.

''Nathan and I were _just_ having a _make out session_ , sorry, we didn't hear the fire bell,'' I say through my gritted teeth, still collecting myself from the accident. The thought of me and him making a physical contact repulses me, but David Madsen would certainly buy that kind of crap about two sexually frustrated teenagers.

Nathan looks at me, eyes wide, mouth opened, ready to laugh in my face, but the realisation of me saving his ass hits him, and he grabs my arm, dragging me out of the bathroom. Madsen tries to stop us, but the Principal standing outside tells him to turn the damn alarm off and walks towards us.

''Miss Caulfield and . . .'' His eyes travel from me to Nathan in slight confusion. _I'd be_ _shocked, too, to see me with a Prescott._ "Can you please explain to me what were you two doing in the ladies' bathroom during the fire alarm?'' Nathan tightens the grip around my arm, his fingers diving into skin.

''You look a little stressed out. Are you okay?'' He addresses me, cautiously observing our pale faces.

''She's _fine_ ," Nathan's faster than me, his gaze fixed onto the Principal, but fingers digging into my skin even harder than before. I have to bite my lip to conceal the pain.

"I believe that I was asking _Miss Caulfield_ , not you, Mr. Prescott," he gives him a warning glare, turning once again to me. I gulp.

"I-I'm fine. Just got really dizzy and Nathan made sure that I'd be okay," I answer quickly, almost instantly. I feel the adrenaline wearing off, and the pain in my arm feels even more severe than before. I am desperate for him to let go off me.

"Now _excuse_ us," Nathan says coldly, dragging me in the exit's direction.

As we find ourselves to be outside, I yank my arm away, looking at him with fury. His nails have left scratch marks on my skin that begin to bleed.

"You are _so_ fucked up in that little head you've got, you little cuckoo bitch," he laughs to mask the fear hidden within his tone that is desperate to come out.

"At least I'm not the one waving the gun around girl's bathro– ''

He cuts me off. " _Holy shit_ , Max. Say it _louder_ , I dare you.'' I think it's the first time he actually used my real name for once. "You better keep your fucking mouth shut about today or _I_ and _my family_ will be after your ass, _understood_?'' A _threat_. _Is he being serious? After everything that just happened, he is going to make threats towards me?_

"Stop bullying people and maybe I will," my voice's steady, but I'm not sure if I sound convincing enough.

"Oh man, _you're_ telling _me_ , what to do?" He moves towards me with a furious look, but I hold my ground.

"Step back," I warn him shakily, with no effect. I'm forced to push him down the stairs, my nails reaching his face.

" _You_ , are _so FUCKING DEAD!_ " He shouts, getting up from the floor, one cheek beginning to bleed.

 _Shit_.

I make a run for it, heading towards the fountain, but he's right behind me. I'm suddenly pushed with so much force that I land in the water with my whole body in.

I splash water in his face to slow him down while I try to get out. " _YOU_ didn't just do that!'' He growls in disbelief and fury as I start running towards the dorms. My heart beats so fast it brushes against the chest, aching.

He grabs my jacket by the hood from behind and I slip, landing right on top of him. I can't get up as he's holding my arms tightly.

"Stop fucking running!" He growls and I close my eyes, ready for a hit in the face. As it doesn't come after a second, I dare to slowly look behind, confused.

Seeing the tears in his eyes and a shattered expression on his face, my anger is suddenly drawn from me by an invisible force.

"Mr. _Prescott_!" Ms. Grand comes rushing our way, causing him to let go off me, and I stand up rapidly, stepping back immediately.

Without further thinking, I run away.

* * *

 **A/N :** **This chapter has been rewritten. (All of them were like million of times lmfao rip me.)**


	2. Chapter 2 : Bring Out The Claws

Chapter II, _Bring Out The Claws._

* * *

 _Fucking Nathan fucking Prescott . . ._

A sharp stitch at my side tells me to stop, and I do, realising there is only few metres separating me from the dormitory entrance, my safety den, where I can wrap myself up into a cocoon and hibernate, isolate myself from all the today's nuisances I've encountered and just, _breathe_.

 _Á propos_. . .

I bend to place my hands on my knees, exhausted from the sprint. I think the adrenaline has finally properly worn out, and I'm out of fucking breath.

My head automatically turns, to only see that no one is chasing me and I'm safe, at least for the time being.

Nathan has some _serious issues_. I can't be so careless _next time_ or he _will_ shoot _me_. And there will be next times for sure. Nathan isn't the one to let things go, _as I heard._

I walk slowly to the entrance, that is blocked by Victoria and her minions sitting on the steps, giggling about. _I don't have time for this . . ._

They notice me immediately. ''Well, well, now, isn't that Max Caulfield in the flesh?'' The blonde speaks calmly, turning to her minions, who are now laughing. I have the feeling that they were talking smack about me as soon as they saw me.

''What's up with your _clothes?_ Oh my God, _don't tell me_ ; you're _so poor_ that you have to wash your wardrobe in the school's fountain,'' she takes her phone out, amused. '' _Hold that pose_ , I've gotta post this _everywhere_ ,'' I stand embarrased as she takes a picture, feeling humiliated and weak. '' _Hashtag_ , so-poor-can't-afford-doing-the-laundry.''

 _If only she knew the reason that caused me getting soaked. How would she take in the fact about her friend being a psycho getting one of the girls killed?_

''I don't have time for this,'' I say, in barely a whisper, for which I hate myself.

''What was that? I can't hear you - _what a surprise_ ,'' another wave of laughter.

I walk away, blocking out the sound of her voice. _No time to waste._

After a minute or so pacing around in Samuel's sheft, I come to the conclusion that Victoria and paint isn't the best connection and I do my magic trick to mess around with the bucket's handle. Then, I go back into the sheft, figuring out how to turn on the sprinkles. One switch is enough to make Victoria scream in frustration.

I come out, smile plastered to my face that fades as soon as I meet Nathan's eyes. Not long after that, he and Victoria are being showered in paint.

''You are gonna _pay_ for this!'' He shouts, stepping away, addressing me, not Samuel.

''More like he's getting fucking _sued_!'' Victoria adds, glaring at Samuel who hurries towards them, apologising.

I'm frozen in place, torn between hiding and running away. Nathan saw me coming out of the shaft while talking to Victoria. He knows it was me who had tampered the handle. I am so dead. . . _Like I wasn't already . . ._

The blonde sends her minions to get her some towels and settles herself down onto the steps, looking completely shattered while Nathan walks towards me, causing me to take two steps back. However, I don't notice the bench behind me, which results in me falling over it.

Nathan looks down at me, his face showing fury, that quickly shapes into amusement.

''You almost shat yourself there,'' he exclaims, smirking rudely, wiping his face with the sleeve of his orange signature jacket, smudging paint all over his still-bleeding cheek which results in him hissing and swearing under his breath. '' _Fuck_.''

I awkwardly sit up, feeling a great pain in my back from the impact.

''It's called karma,'' I say, getting up from the grass, my jeans sticking to my skin, causing an unpleasant feeling.

''That,'' he points at my soaked clothes. ''Is also karma.''

''Good point, I guess. Because not getting you busted for killing - _nearly_ killing someone was gonna bite me in the ass anyway, and it could be way worse.''

His expression turns grim. "You be fucking careful, Caulfield, alright? For this," he gestures at his face with the index finger, leaning forward. "I could send you to a fucking mental hospital."

I challenge him. "Me too, after seeing what you're capable of today."

" _You fucking little,_ " he loses whatever little temper he had left and reaches for my collar, bringing me closer to his face. I place a hand atop his tight grip, and that's when he releases me.

His face shows mixed feelings, and I feel guilty for thinking so, but he looks good even while splattered with paint. It doesn't surprise me. He's Nathan Prescott.

"Can I go now?" I ask, hugging my elbow closer to myself. As the answer doesn't come, I move towards the entrance.

Looking at Victoria, a sudden guilt overwhelms me, and I comfort her in Nathan's presence. Then, I quickly move through the door inside, ready to bury myself in my room . . . forever.

My hand reaches the handle as Nathan appears in the hall, noticing me instantly. His eyebrows are furrowed in an unpleasant manner, and he heads into the showers without a word.

For a full minute I stand still, listening to my beating heart. _Go in,_ I command myself, but my body's refusing.

That paint mixed with the scratch surely doesn't look good . . .

"Man, I am going to regret this," I whisper to myself disappointingly as I drag my ass towards the room the boy went into. The door is ajar and Nathan scrubs his face furiously with a wet paper towel. It truly hurts to watch, the paint spreading everywhere and in every possible direction. It will stain at this rate.

He turns his head to glare at me deadly, with clear, visible hatred. "The fuck you want, _bitch_? Haven't got enough?" His voice weary and defeated, he turns to the mirror and mumbles _fuck_. I feel sorry for him, even if I shouldn't. _He got what he deserved_ , but I should at least tell him how to clean it properly.

After a long silence, I finally manage to speak. "I think I have some baby oil in my room. It should get the paint off . . . "

"You better, or I'll sue your bitch-ass face." He throws the towel in the bin angrily and follows me outside.

I open the door to my room nervously, and he enters immediately, looking for a place to sit on. He chooses my bed, and takes his signature-orange jacket off. It's stained with paint.

"What . . . _what are you_ doing?" I ask. I did not expect him to come in.

His annoyed eyes meet mine. "My jacket's fucking soaked, thanks to you. This jacket costs more than whatever you'll earn in your miserable life. Hey," he suddenly smiles.

I look at him suspiciously. _What now?_

"Keep it. Pay off all your debts and buy yourself a decent camera," he throws it at me. I don't catch it.

 _Very funny._

 _. . ._

 _What's even wrong with my camera?_

I search my desk with shaking hands. _It all feels wrong_. I don't feel safe anymore in my own room. It is _my_ territory, yet an intruder succeded in taking it over. He has the power over the room now. _My room._

I find an unopened pack of tissues, and I dip one in a small amount of baby oil. I remember I used to paint walls with my dad when I was a kid and I _always_ ended up with my hands and face all in paint. Then mum would be annoyed and clean me up. I hated the smell of the baby oil at the time. Now, it seems reassuring.

"Hurry up," I hear Nathan complaining, which encourages me to do the opposite. _What an asshole._

As I turn, he is looking at my memorial wall with something in his look I can't quite figure out. Admiration, maybe? _Yeah, right._

Our eyes meet.

"Finally," he says with a tint of rudeness and sarcasm when I hand him the tissue.

 _You're welcome, you ass._

Feeling incredibly uncomfortable and cold, I go up to my closet to pick some dry clothes out. I glance at Nathan, luckily he's too busy with scrubbing his face.

He taps his chin. "You're real lucky this is coming off."

No way I will change in the same room. "Don't touch my stuff," I say seriously, heading towards the showers. Now that I said it, he probably will.

Seeing that nobody's around, I quickly undress, and put on a fresh underwear. Next come the blue jeans and a white top with a doe pattern. On top of that, a grey, sweater and blue sneakers because my current ones are drenched.

I glance at my nails, which have Nathan's blood underneath, and I grimace, turning the tap on. _I wonder if he'll have a scar._

 _Heh. I can just imagine how much money he will spend on plastic surgeries._

When my hands are clean, I pick up the wet clothes from the floor and head back to my room, where I find Nathan sitting by the desk and on my laptop. I place the clothes down onto the couch.

" _Camera porn_? Whatthefuck . . . " He murmurs, not noticing my presence.

A phone buzzes in my pocket, and I reach for it quickly, although too late as Nathan is already turning to face me.

It's my mum. Principal told her that he is ''concerned'' about my attitude. _Man, are you cereal_? Also, Warren wants his flash drive back. I take a deep breath in. Nathan scans me with his cold eyes.

Then he picks something up from the desk; it's a note.

"Warren Gayram, aka the Omega scum wants his porn back," he lifts it up, and I lunge forward, ripping it from him like a wild animal.

I read it without a comment and place it back onto a shelf.

"Another one," he hands me a pink post-note, and I take it, shooting him an angry look. "You're popular," he snorts mockingly, turning back to the laptop, and logging into Facebook.

This one's from Dana, she borrowed Warren's flash drive. Man, I _really_ need to lock up my room.

I water Lisa quickly and brush the fringe out of my face. Then, I turn my eyes to Nathan who's browsing the web. I want him gone and I don't understand what he's still doing here. The paint was now completely gone from his face, but his scrubbing left his skin reddened. It looks like a slight blush from my perspective.

"Did you clean the wound?" I ask, hugging my arm closer nervously.

"Yeah, I've taken one of your baby wipes or whatever the fuck they were," he gestures somewhere around him, eyes still glued to the screen. After a longer while, I look at my phone impatiently.

Finally, he speaks. "So, what do you want?" He asks, not looking at me, his tone the same as the one he's used previously in the bathroom, sending chills down my spine.

"W-what do you mean?" I step back uncomfortably, fearing that the scene from the bathroom will be repeated, only with me instead of the blue-haired girl.

His eyes are on me now. "And what do you think?" He blurts out. "For keeping your big mouth shut, you _must want_ something for sure. I've got _some_ money on my account," he adds the last sentence quietly, looking back to the laptop screen.

"You can't buy me with money, you ass," I say defiantly, feeling offended.

"Ha!" He laughs in a crow's manner. "Bullshit! I can buy _everyone_ , _especially_ you. Just give me the amount and it's done."

I furrow my eyebrows angrily. _So he's ready to give_ me _the money, but had to chase off the blue-haired girl with a gun?_

"You think that you can manipulate me, and the others, either through violence or money, but you're wrong."

"Bullshit. And don't you dare fucking _analyse_ me, I _pay_ people for that. _You_ make me sick, trying to be all goody-goody but-"

I interrupt him.

"Nathan," the name feels alien and sharp on my tongue. "Open your eyes. You have paid me nothing, and I still helped you and didn't bust you. Do you really think that I care about your money?"

He thinks about it for a minute, looking down at nothing in particular, wrinkles appearing between his eyebrows.

"No, I don't. What you did, _what you could of done_ , really sucks. And I know you have a problem but you gotta get it sorted out. And now, if you could leave my room . . ." He doesn't wait for me to finish. He furiously gets up and walks to the door.

His back turns to me. "I'm not done with you, and I'll be _watching_ you. If even the smallest word gets out of your mouth, then you're dead, _you hear me_? Fucking _dead._ " And he leaves.

I breathe out heavily, facing the floor.

 _Dammit,_ he–

He forgot his jacket . . .

* * *

"Nathan, wait!"

I follow him outside, with his jacket in one hand.

"Haven't I made myself clear enough?" He turns around while still walking, and stops as I throw the clothing at him. " _Nice_ , so this is going to trash now . . ."

I roll my eyes, hurt. "Whatever."

* * *

Meeting Warren isn't easy after today's events, yet is strangely comforting. I feel that he's the only person I can talk to right now.

"I had this incredibly strange bizarro in Mr. Jefferson's class, and then Nathan Prescott–"

"Uh-oh," he mumbles.

"What?"

"Everytime someone mentions the dude's name, he just appears out of the thin air, y'know?"

Alarmed, I look up to find Nathan Prescott heading towards us.

"Oh man, _are you cereal_? . . ." I mutter under my breath, wondering if my life from now on will be followed by instant Prescott's threats.

"Caulfield!" He shouts, causing me to sink my head into my shoulders.

"Warren, maybe you should go . . ." I suggest weakly, however in need of his support.

"Damn right he should," Nathan catches up to us and pushes Warren away.

"Stop it," I command.

"And who are _you_ to tell _me_ , huh?"

"What do you want?"

"My phone."

I furrow my eyebrows, confused. "I don't have it . . ."

"Stop playing games, _whore_."

"Hey, don't call her that, dude!" Warren cuts in, causing Nathan to headbutt him out of the way.

I shriek in surprise, "Warren!"

Nathan's attention turns back to me. "I need it. NOW!"

I fish in my bag for the set of keys to my room and shakily hand them to him, however he rips the bag out of my hands.

"Have you taken _my_ phone?!" He persists.

" _No_ , why would I–"

"Admit it, you took it!"

"Maybe it fell out of your pocket in my room, go and look for it yourself!"

"Oh man, you're telling _me_ what to do?!"

He chokes me, but is violently yanked backwards by Warren, and I fall to the ground at the impact. A truck pulls up behind me, and I quickly gather my stuff.

Let's just say that things go downhill from here . . .

* * *

"I'm sorry, that was my joint," I say unsurely as I step out of a closet. And I was hiding in there in the first place because Chloe's stepdad came back home early, and Chloe thought smoking pot would be a good idea. We were busted, I had to take the blame.

"Well, well . . . I don't like strangers in my home. Especially dopers. So, you're bringing drugs into my home. How about if I call the police?" David Madsen, aka Chloe's stepdad, takes a step forward, intimidating me.

 _Wait, what the fuck?!_

He's _Chloe's stepdad?!_

"That would screw up your spotless Blackwell record. You do seem to get around, ' _Max_ '. I'm sick of you losers dragging Chloe down." I lift one eyebrow up, looking at Chloe in surprise. _So she is in trouble after all . . ._

Chloe looks at everything but me. "Missy, you sure do like to pop up and start trouble. Like this afternoon. And morning, too." _No, no no, just don't mention the morning . . ._

" _Making out_ with _Nathan Prescott_ in the bathroom, who would think?" _Great_.

Chloe's eyes widen, her eyebrows twitching with anger.

" _Bullshit_ , everything you say, is _bullshit_. Max would never–"

My mouth is dry, yet I speak up. "N-Nathan Prescott? I would never ever go near that psycho." _Smooth recovery, Max._

"See–"

"Except for this morning . . ." I add quietly, in a voice of the greatest innocence.

" _MAX_!" I didn't know that a single name could include this amount of venom, disgust, and shock in Chloe's voice.

* * *

Chloe starts talking about Nathan. Nathan dosed her. Chloe passed out. He was creeping towards her with a camera. She broke his lamp and ran away. They met in the bathroom . . . she wanted money. And he shot . . . _well_ , tried to shoot her.

" . . . We drank and I laughed at his rich kid bullshit. He was one step ahead and put something in my beer . . . " Chloe's voice is echoing through my head, giving me a painful headache. I place my hand on her arm, offering comfort.

" . . . I passed out on the floor . . . that perv was smiling and crawling towards me with a camera . . . everything was a blur . . . " I touch my bruised arm, staring off into the distance. _Nathan Prescott is going down._

* * *

"Max?"

I'm on my way back to dorms, lost in thoughts, eyes still glassy from the previous events.

"Max?" Again, I hear a familiar voice that makes my insides turn with disgust.

Nathan is walking up to me, camera in hand. I wonder if it's the one he used to photograph Chloe with. _Oh my God . . ._

I don't look at him, I don't even stop. I continue on walking at a faster pace. He's not too happy about it and catches my left wrist from behind. I don't want him to touch me. I don't want him to talk to me. I don't want him to even look at me.

I free myself from his grip, staring at him with fury. _What could he possibly want from me now?_

"Max, _whatthefuck_ , I didn't mean to choke you–"

"Don't come near me ever again, or I'll tell everyone what you've done to Chloe Price," I say, with shaking but furious voice, fleeing away from him.

* * *

 **A/N :** **This chapter along with few others has been rewritten.**


	3. Chapter 3 : Compromise

Chapter III, _Compromise._

* * *

Panicked and breathless, I open the door to my room and literally swing myself in. Then, I turn the lock behind me with trembling hands, and exhale with relief as I slide down onto the floor.

 _I don't know what to do. It still feels like a super weird dream of some sort. I mean, superpowers? Preventing a murder? Having a psychopath after me? . . ._

A minute passes in complete silence.

 _Fuck this_.

I lay onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, feeling like screaming. _How did I get myself into all of this?_

 _Fuck it._

 _Why haven't I been there for Chloe when she needed me?_

A sharp knock on the door takes me by surprise and creates a gasp in my tightening throat. Immediately, I cover my mouth with both hands.

"Open up, whore," the voice from the other side's sharp, but quiet. Nathan tries yanking the handle without result.

I wait, not daring to breathe, hoping he'd go away.

"That slut – whatever she told you, it's not true." _Oh, sure it isn't._

I slowly take my phone out, biting the bottom lip stressfully. I dial Warren, but he doesn't answer.

Nathan persists with a calmer tone. "We gotta talk." _And by that you mean you're gonna threaten me even more?_

 _I'm so scared_. . . I bring the knees closer to my chin, burying myself in them. _He will hurt me just like he hurt Chloe._

After a longer moment without a response, he knocks again, this time softer. "Max, you in here?" There's a hint of doubt in his voice.

Just as I think he's about to leave, my phone vibrates suddenly, scaring and making me jump. It falls to the floor from my hand, continuing on buzzing. _Shit!_

Nathan bangs his fists on the door, clearly annoyed. "End of hiding, Caulfield! You open that goddamn door right _now_ , or I'll bust it fucking open!"

"Warren? Please, _please_ , come to the dorm . . ." I whisper desperately, phone pressed to my ear. Nathan kicks the door and I jump away, dropping the cellphone onto the floor.

"Nate, what the _actual fuck_?" I hear Victoria's voice on the other side of the door, and I didn't think I would ever say that, but oh am I glad to see her.

"That little _slut_ thinks she can hide from _me_ in there. Really, Max? After threatening me, you'll just, what, _hide like a bitch_?!" He shouts, his voice raging with fury. _Geez, these doors_ are _strong._

"Chill, Nate, she can't hide forever, you'll just get her tomorrow." _Wow. I can't believe the actual Queen Bee is helping me out._ I guess comforting her was the right thing to do.

"Just mind your own business, Vic," he brushes her off.

I back out, my foot accidentally catching on the carpet, causing me to lose balance. I land heavily on the ground, banging my head on the wooden corner of the bed.

I reach out with right hand, ready to rewind, but my vision is too blurry and I can't focus well enough to make it work.

"The fuck was that?" Nathan's voice seems distant.

I lie on my back, unable to move, staring blankly at the ceiling. I try to get up, automatically moaning with pain. I touch my forehead, hissing as the fingertips meet with a scarlet liquid.

"Shit, did she like, hurt herself?" Victoria says quietly, her voice barely audible for me to hear.

 _Max, you're way too clumsy._

I reach for the edge of the bed and I get on it slowly, breathing out heavily. I've cut the side of my forehead. _Great_.

"Bitch's pretending," Nathan snarls.

"Or maybe she went out through the window." The girl suggests, and immediately I hear fading footsteps, likely to be Nathan's. "We're _even_ , hipster," she quickly adds at the end and walks away too, leaving me finally alone.

As I lay back, my eyes close tiredly, although another knock on the door alarms me once again. "Max, _Max_?! It's me!"

Getting up, I unlock the door with a faint smile at Warren's sight. A second later, however, Nathan pushes past him into my room.

"I knew you're in here!" He shouts, lunging himself at me.

" _Dude_ , step back!" Warren catches him by the jacket just before he gets the chance to hit me.

"Thought your _bodyguard_ would _protect you_?" Nathan seems too amused to fight back.

Warren looks at me, his expression changing as his eyes notice my forehead. "Max, you're bleeding!"

I cover it carelessly with my fringe, taking on a dismissive tone. "It's nothing _–_ "

"Did _you_ do _this_ to her?!" Warren lashes out on Nathan, pushing him again and again, until Nathan shoves him brutally out of the way.

"Bitch did this to herself," Nathan takes a couple of steps forward, angry, blue eyes fixed on me. He lowers his harsh voice to a whisper, and leans forward. "Don't you dare tell anyone _anything_. You got that?"

I challenge him with a glare, and before I know it, words are pouring out of me. "You'll be going down, Prescott, and I'll be making sure of it."

He scoffs. "And what will _you_ do, alone _and_ poor?"

"She's _not_ alone, you dickhead." Warren hits him from behind, and I stare dumbfounded as Nathan falls to the floor, not moving.

I immediately get up from bed, circling Nathan to get to Warren.

"Served him right," he comments casually, massaging his hand.

"You knocked him out cold . . ." I say, impressed.

"Hey, that _was_ pretty badass though, _right_?" He asks, thrilled and terrified.

"Well, sure, _yeah_ , but now I've got an angry, unconscious psycho in my room."

"Hm . . . Now when you put it that way . . ."

"You're _awesome_ , Warren, thank you _so much_ for coming," I say with appreciation, softly touching his shoulder.

"A white knight to the rescue, right? What _happened_?" He asks, gesturing at my wound that I immediately reach up to with a hand.

"You know me, I _tripped_ ," I answer, dismissing his concerns.

"And what's _his_ role in it?" He looks hardly at Nathan.

"Oh, he _– Are You alright?_ " I ask, only now noticing his black eye, a result of Nathan's punch this afternoon.

"Yah, I really took one for the team though. And now, it kinda makes it two, right? When this psycho wakes up, he'll probably want to kill me."

A sudden realisation hits me. "Yeah, _what_ are we gonna _do_ with him?"

"Well, apart from a typical action performed on an unconscious person such as drawing moustache on his face? I say, we teach him a lesson."

"What'd you have in mind?" I ask, intrigued.

* * *

Warren and me hide behind a corner, giggling. We tied Nathan to a lamppost in only underwear and a t-shirt. And it's _really_ cold outside tonight.

The best thing is that I don't even feel bad about doing it. I'm relieved that he receives his punishment, even if it's such a lame one.

"We should _totally_ record that," Warren whispers to my ear, causing me to shudder. "Are you cold?" He asks, noticing my reaction.

"It's not _that_. . . _Uh_ , let's go back before he wakes up."

"Are you sure you don't want to call the police? I _meannnn_ , drugging, threatening, nearly murdering your friend . . . Wearing those _ridiculous_ shoes . . . do you really want me to go on?"

I turn around to face him. "The police are literally owned by the Prescotts. Besides, I'm sure that karma will do its own work."

" _Girl_ , I hope you're right."

* * *

I wash my face with cold water to keep my eyes opened. _I'm so tired, yet I still have to do some research, discover where my mad power came from. Hopefully the Internet will have the answers._

I look at myself in the mirror. _The wound's not that bad if you cover it with fringe . . ._

With a sigh, I grab my toothbrush and clothes, and head out back to my room.

As soon as I'm inside, the door shuts behind me. With the corner of my eye I can see Nathan's silhouette. He pushes me violently backwards, knocking the air out of me.

He whispers, "Thought you're _funny_ , huh?" His blue eyes are piercing mine as he's pinning me to the door. "You know, I _laughed_ my ass off at your little joke!"

"I'll scream . . ." I warn weakly.

"Scream." His eyes challenge mine, and as soon as I open my mouth, he clasps a cold hand over my face.

I bite his finger which results in him pushing me onto the bed, swearing under breath and waving his hand around.

I look at him wildly, he's shivering, however being fully dressed.

"You drugged Chloe," I say, slowly reaching for my phone without him noticing.

My words seem to have taken him aback. "I _–_ _How_ do you know about that? . . ." He runs a hand through his disarranged by wind hair, staring hardly at nothing in particular. He seems nervous. _Is he going to shoot me?_

" _You need help, Nathan . . . "_ I say with sympathy, noticing how out of mind he looks and acts right now.

"I don't _need_ _anybody_. . . " He answers in defence, unconvinced by his own words.

I look at his clothes scattered around the floor. A gun is falling out of the trousers' pocket. _I just hope he doesn't have another one hidden on him . . . Just the thought of a weapon lying around in my room makes me nauseous . . . The same weapon that killed Chloe . . ._

I slowly back out, meeting the wall. I discreetly unlock my phone.

"Are you a part of _this_?" He asks, looking up at me.

"A part of what?" I ask, stalling.

He closes the space between us by leaning forward. " _D-don't_ fuck around with me, Caulfield! Tell me _the truth_!" As I look at him hopelessly, he shakes me by my shoulders.

"Get off of me!" I command, with an attempt of pushing him off.

"Shit, shit . . ." He suddenly releases me, taking quick, short breaths in.

His bewildered eyes scan the floor, and notice the orange jacket lying on the floor amid other clothes. Within a second he's already going madly through the pockets, digging something out of it. His elbow sets the gun off by accident.

"Ah! _Shit_!" He jumps away as the bullet pierces the window with a loud, unfriendly sound.

I rewind, looking at my right hand in admiration. _I still can't believe I can do this . . ._

"Nathan, there's a gun in your trousers," I warn him slowly, getting up on my feet.

Nathan glares at the weapon and angrily unloads it, throwing it into the corner of the room without looking. "I didn't want it."

"Then why did you get it in the first place?" I ask annoyed, hugging my elbow closer to me. _OK. You have a clear path, Max. Run on three._

"I didn't– _ugh_ , whatever," he stands up, a bottle of pills clutched in his palms. He stares at it for a longer moment, but finally throws it into the bin.

 _One . . ._

"Look, if you haven't noticed, this is _my_ room, and I really don't want to have _anything_ to do with you," I say steadily, phone in hand, ready to call or shout for help.

 _Two_. . .

He turns to me, unreadable expression on his face.

"I won't tell anyone . . . _for now_ ," I add, furrowing my eyebrows.

 _Three_ . . . _Get ready!_

"You tied me to a fucking lamppost."

" _Yeah_ but–" I look at the door.

"Nearly naked," he squints.

"You deserve way worse, and you know it."

He looks away, thinking for a minute. _OK, this is my chance . . ._

He picks up his clothes and looks at me from the floor. I swallow hardly.

"I want my phone back."

I shrug. "I don't have it."

"Then _look_ for it."

I stare back hardly at him.

"It's not my fault that you've lost it."

"I've lost it in _your room._ "

I bite my lip, and catch him looking at me weirdly.

"What?" I ask accusingly.

" _Wha_ – I– nothing, _fuck_ , hurry up," he turns around, and goes off to pick up his gun.

I look under my bed nervously, and find a phone lying around.

"You got it?" He startles me.

"No," I say, hiding it into my pocket. "It's not here."

" _Fuck_ ," he hisses under his breath. "I gotta find it," he heads for the door, and I stand up.

Dana is standing in the hallway chatting to Juliet, their backs turned to us. I quickly drag Nathan back in by an arm and close the door. "You can't leave now, _if_ Juliet sees you–"

"Then what? She'll think we're _sleeping_ with each other? She'll tell the _whole school_? As if I ever wanted to even fucking touch you." He reaches for the handle, but I stand in front of him.

I beg. " _Please._ " I certainly don't want to get in trouble or even be seen with him. _If Chloe finds out . . ._

He shoots me a challenging look, and leans forward so our noses are almost touching. I flinch, trying to get away, but he puts a hand on the door like a barrier.

I bite my lip, torn between giving the phone to him and keeping it. _If I kept it, I could maybe find something on it that I could use to blackmail him or find other solid evidence?_

I look at him, knowing he's won, hating the fact of it. I fish in my pocket and lift up the cellphone to him.

He stares at it with disbelief, and soon furrows his eyebrows in anger. "I knew it!" He yanks the phone off of me, taking a step back. _I can't believe that I'm saying this, but he looks_ hurt _._

"No one can be fucking trusted," he says tiredly, disappointed, and moves away to sit on the floor without looking at me.

"Nathan, how can I fucking _trust_ you when You have a gun on you and you try to choke me?" I ask, giving up on sounding angry.

"Whatthefuckever." He closes his eyes, leaning head back.

Giving up on further communication, I hug my arm and wait.

* * *

I open my eyes. It's quiet outside, and when I check, the girls are long gone.

"You can go now–" I say, turning to Nathan, however he seems to be asleep. In my room. _My_ room.

I stare at him dumbfounded. _What am I supposed to do now?_

After a realisation that I have an armed Nathan Prescott in my room, asleep, I panic.

I stand up and look around the room. Still, no ideas occur to me.

Unsurely, I slightly shake him by the shoulder, which results in him leaning to the side, and finally, to the floor. Swallowing hardly, I reach for a pillow and then I tuck it under his head.

He shifts, taking on a more comfortable position, and I move away, startled. Finally, I throw a blanket at him and walk up to my desk, feeling my heart beating as fast as never.

 _It's gonna be okay, Max. He's asleep. He can't do anything to you when he's asleep. Just get on with your things and let him sleep, as crazy as it sounds, because there is nothing else you can do right now._

Just to be sure though, I take his gun and hide it in one of my drawers. Then, with a sigh of relief, I sit behind the desk.

* * *

There is a quiet knock on my door and I freeze, looking at Nathan and then back at the repeating sound. Hoping he won't wake up, I open the door slightly to see Warren holding the books I asked him for. Not wanting him to see my ' _guest'_ , I step outside.

"Thanks, Warren, I really owe you," I say, smiling weakly while taking the pile from him.

"It's third time now," he clicks his tongue, shaking head. "How're you gonna pay me back?" He asks in a near whisper, looking at my lips. He steps closer, and I freeze.

 _Uh . . . Is this the moment where we kiss?_

His eyes ask for a permission, which I involuntarily give him, feeling my mouth go dry. Every muscle in my body wants to burst with excitement.

Just as our lips are millimetres away, the door suddenly opens, and yawning Nathan-fucking-Prescott walks past us, yawning. "Need a piss," is all he says.

Warren stares at him, open mouthed, until his silhouette disappears behind the bathroom's door.

I shakily grab the boy's t-shirt. "Warren–"

"OK, _what the hell_ is going on?" He asks, glancing at me with confusion and anger.

"It's not, uh–"

"Wait, did he– Did he _touch you_?" His tone turns furious, eyes already darting across the hall in search for Nathan.

"No," I shake my head. "I found his phone so I gave it back to him and then he just collapsed in my room because we were waiting for the people to clear out from the hallway so they wouldn't see him."

"What if he _wanted_ to hurt you?" He turns to go after him, but I pull harder at his chest.

"It's okay, Warren; I can handle it." _Why am I protecting him_? I could just let Warren kick his ass . . . But truth is, I'm worried about Warren being the one who gets beaten up in the process, _but saying that would surely hurt his manhood ego._

"But Max–"

I hug him.

"Thank you, Warren. But don't worry too much, OK? Everything's gonna be okay," I say, pulling away. He looks at me for a longer moment, with a look so lovingly caring that I kiss him on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow . . . ? "

"Tomorrow . . . " He touches his face, but quickly regains his composure. "M-Max, come on, I can't just leave you with this psycho."

"I'll lock myself in my room and call you if anything happens," I assure him.

"Hmmm, OK, but I want to see it happening."

I go back into my room and wave at him as I close the door and turn the lock in. "Happy now?"

"Satisfied. See ya tomorrow, Max."

After hearing the main entrance door shutting, I unlock the door and I throw the books carelessly onto the floor, sitting myself on a chair whilst taking a deep breath.

The door opens slowly, and Nathan steps in. The lights are off, so I can't see his face.

"Wow," he speaks quietly.

" _What_?" I ask, impatiently.

"Two nerds making out in the hallway, _how romantic_ ," his tone sarcastic and cold, he steps closer, looking at my stuff.

"Well, we weren't making out, because you had to ruin it. Like everything," I add the last part in a whisper.

"You wouldn't anyway. You haven't got the balls."

His words hang in the air for a longer moment.

"Nathan, I'm calling the cops," I say finally, taking my phone out of a pocket.

He yanks it off of me and places it on a shelf next to him. "Why? Because I made a _stupid joke_?"

I sigh, giving up. "Don't you understand? You _hurt_ people, you _drug_ people, you have a _loaded weapon_ on you. And now you're _stalking_ me."

He laughs like a crow.

"What's so funny?" I furrow my eyebrows.

" _Max Caulfield_ is afraid of _me_?" He asks, leaning forward. I try not to flinch.

"Nathan, stop."

" _Why_?" He closes the space between us. I immediately jump backwards.

"Stop!" I shout, but he pushes me onto the bed.

"Why?" He asks again. I spring away from him, but his hand wraps around my arm, pulling me backwards. I cry out, trying to punch him.

 _Warren was right._

"You think I'm going to _stop_? You think I'm an _asshole_ , a _psycho_. So why the hell would I _stop_ , huh?"

I look at him.

"Answer me, bitch!" He pins me down even harder and just as I'm about to head butt him, he releases me. "I'm not the monster you portray me to be, Caulfield."

I breathe out heavily, almost choking on air.

"Then what the hell was that?!" I raise my voice, kicking him off the bed. I unlock my phone in tears.

"You said stop, I _stopped_ ," he shrugs, sitting up.

"Is this some sort of a sick game to you?" I ask, repulsed.

"Life is all a big fucking game."

"You disgust me!"

He shrugs. "Who cares what you think of me? No one. _Why_? Because _no one cares_ about Max-fucking-Caulfield, and her little opinions."

"Get out," I say with rage, my voice cracking.

A full minute passes in a complete silence.

"I'm sorry," he says.

I stare at him, struggling to breathe. Fear embracing me disappears as soon as his tearing eyes meet mine. He looks genuinely sorry.

"When he was about to kiss you– I got so _so_ angry," he continues, looking away, lips trembling. "Even a complete nerd like you can get a boyfriend, and who would love me? No-one. _No-one_ would ever _care_ about me."

I slowly slide onto the floor and reach my hand to him. "You're a disgusting pig, and I would never even consider you my friend, but if you won't get help, then you'll end up dead or in prison," he lifts his head to look at me. "I can't let that happen – at least not for now, because I may need your help. So let's make a compromise. I'll be there for you, but you have to change. You have to listen to me. Do we have a deal?"

He stares at me, wide eyed. Unsurely, he finally shakes my hand and we lock long glances.

* * *

 **A/N : This chapter was rewritten.**


	4. Chapter 4 : Amber Doe

Chapter IV, _Amber Doe._

* * *

I wake up with my head on the desk, and a pain in the neck. My phone is buzzing, I immediately reach out to hit the ' _snooze_ ' button. There's a blanket wrapped around me and I yawn, stretching out my arms.

A sudden realisation hits me, and I turn to look at the bed, alarmed, but it's empty and made in a hurry _. I would be speeding the shit out of here if I was Nathan as well. If someone saw him–_

I rub my sleepy eyes as I get up. _I am so wrecked after staying up all night, learning about time travel._

I cautiously open my desk drawer and notice that the gun is gone. _Which means the gun is also back in his hands . . ._

 _Anyway._

After picking out a random outfit, I head out to take a cold shower. However, I cannot seem to be able to relax. _After all that's happened . . . I don think anyone would be able to think clearly._

"I know Nathan hooked her up," Victoria states confidently, not caring about being heard. "And he has the good shit."

 _Wait. Nathan drugged Kate?_! I drop the shampoo bottle from my hands. _Shit!_

They both turn to look, but I'm quicker and manage to hide behind the curtain in time. She doesn't say more. She complains about paint on her face.

"So, Nathan's after _Max Caulfield_ now. Knowing her, she owes him money for stash," the blonde carries on, causing me to swallow hardly.

"It's not like she _could_ pay him back anyway," Taylor laughs.

 _What a beeatch!_

* * *

"Hey!" Warren waves as I come his way. Something in his eyes seems to be different, changed.

"Hi," I answer shyly. _What's wrong with you, Max? You've never been like this before._

We look at each other embarrassed, remembering our last night's failed kiss. _Why do I always have to make things awkward?_

"Soo . . . this is not awkward at all," he breaks the silence between us, causing me to smile.

"I'm sorry about yesterday . . . I hope I can make it up to you."

"Well, now's the chance. What do you say, a drive-in with me?" He asks with a shy grin, and a hopeful look.

"I'd love to," I smile, causing him to look at me with excitement.

He leans in, going for a kiss, but I hug him instead.

 _Wow, Max. Just . . . wow._

* * *

I notice Nathan arguing with David Madsen. As I get closer, I can hear Kate's name being shouted out by the security guy.

 _Madsen seems to know a big deal about everything_.

"Excuse me," I approach the pair. They both immediately shut up and look at me. "I need to talk to Nathan," I say hardly.

"Max Caulfield. How convenient," Madsen notices.

"I've nothing to say to you," Nathan brushes me off, his fists clenched.

"Well, I do," I cross my arms, showing him that I'm not going anywhere.

After a shorter while, he furrows his eyebrows with frustration and drags me away.

"This conversation ain't over yet, Prescott," Madsen shouts after us. "And you Max, you stay away from my _daughter_!"

 _Daughter_ . . . I look back at him, noticing worry and helplessness in his eyes.

Nathan's voice brings me back into focus. " _What_?" He asks harshly.

I turn to him, stopping in place. I bite my lip.

"How could you?" I ask, looking at him. "How could you do that to Kate?"

He opens his mouth, taken aback. "You don't understand _–"_

I shake my head.

"What is there to understand, Nathan?! I'm trying to help you, but how can I when there is no hope for you to change?!"

"It's not like you really care though, is it?" He steps forward, giving me a hard stare.

"I couldn't care less about you, Nathan. But I do care about the people you're _hurting_."

He moves away, his expression hurt.

"Well," he finally says. "Then maybe you should _get out my fucking way_ before I hurt you too."

He walks away, and I follow, realising I've angered him and he might do something stupid.

"Wait," I call after him.

He stops. "Why? So I can _pull a trigger_ on you?"

"You need to _calm down."_

"Oh, I am _calm_ , do you see me stabbing girls with needles yet?" He walks, and I jog after him, dumbfounded. "Oh no, I forgot, _that's not me_ ," he quickly adds amused, and gets into a red SUV parked in a parking lot.

Without thinking, I open the door and get in myself. He immediately starts off the engine and stomps foot on the gas pedal.

"Nathan, _slow down_ ," I say, being thrust forward.

"What was that?" He asks, turning on the radio, full volume. "Can't hear you!" He shouts.

I put on my seatbelt and turn the music off with other hand.

"Nathan, you gotta slow down," I plead weakly, looking at him with a helpless look.

He doesn't listen.

A doe jumps out of nowhere in front of the car.

I lift my right hand without thinking, and rewind as an instinct.

Nathan immediately slows down without a word. He stops the car completely and stares at the doe blankly.

The animal is glowing and its eyes are seeming to be looking straight through us.

" _Wowzer_ ," I say, unable to look away.

The doe runs away into the forest.

Nathan gets out the car and follows it in a hurry.

I reluctantly do the same, shouting his name.

As I catch up to him, he's looking around, bewildered. "Rachel!" He shouts.

I reach for his arm. "Nathan," I whisper.

He breaks into a cry, kneeling down, leaving me speechless.

"It was her, Max, it was _her_ , I can _feel it ._. ." He cries out, voice cracking.

Not knowing what to do, I lower myself to his level and touch his arm. "I believe you," I say quietly.

After a minute or two, I decide to take the small bottle from my pocket. It's Nathan's medications I've taken out of my bin this morning.

"These will help you," I say, handing them to him. He looks at the bottle, then throws it away.

"I'm not delusional, you saw her too, right?"

I sigh. "Yeah, but–"

"I've killed her, Max. She's dead because of me . . ." He sobs, covering his face with hands.

I move back, feeling my knees fall under the weight of my body.

"I never meant to– I–"

"Look," I whisper. The doe is walking towards us, her head low. She bends down to touch Nathan's face with her nose.

He stares at the animal with sorrow, and reaches to touch it, but she moves away and looks at me. For a moment I even think that she is looking at my right hand.

"My power," I say, realising the doe and my time travel ability might be connected.

"What?" Nathan whispers back, noticing the intensity in the animal's eyes.

"Nathan, today in the bathroom, you shot Chloe. Then something weird happened, and I got this power to control time," I say unsurely, thinking it was the thing the doe wanted me to say.

"So it is you," he gasps, turning to me rapidly. "It's you who is causing this weird shit happen–"

I cut him off, surprised, "So you knew?!"

"I didn't know it was _you_!" He says fiercely, massaging his face with a hand. "And they said _I'm_ crazy! Fucking cranks."

"So . . . how did you find out?" I ask, relaxing my shoulders.

"There was something weird about you, and I gotta say, I've been having these weird ass deja vu's since yesterday. In the bathroom, I saw myself shoot that punk friend of yours, but then everything seemed like nothing happened. I think . . . I think I can see you do that weird time travel shit."

"So that's how you knew that the doe will jump out?"

"Yeah," he says. "My birthday's on August 29th. Now rewind."

I do as he says.

"I just . . . told you something, didn't I?" He asks confusingly.

"That your birthday is on August 29th."

"It's still fucking weird. I get confused at times."

A long silence causes me to clear my throat. "So our powers are linked . . ."

He nods, looking blankly at the ground. I go behind him and rewind, then tap his shoulder.

" _Holy shit_ , you can teleport too?!" His eyes widen, causing me to giggle.

"Come on, we should probably get going now," I suggest, getting up with shaking hands.

"Yeah, uhm . . . Max?"

I look at him.

"I'm so sorry for harassing and threatening you. And . . . especially for choking you," he avoids my eyes, sounding guilty.

His words take me aback. "I, uh, just don't do it again."

We get back into the car in silence.

"What do you think this means?" He asks as soon as we close the door.

"I don't know. But I do know, that I need to stop that damn tornado from whipping out Arcadia Bay."

He rapidly looks at me. "The _what_?"

"The tornado. I'm having some sort of visions about it. And it's supposed to take place on Friday."

"So it's true," he whispers.

"Do you see it too?"

"Yeah. In my dreams. Then I wake up with a nosebleed, and can't stop thinking about you."

I flinch. "Me?"

"Yeah, fucking weird, right? That's why I've been so suspicious about you."

"Hence the stalking."

"Don't see you complaining about my presence."

I decide to ignore his comment. "Now that we know our powers are linked, we _really_ have to work together."

He opens his mouth, only to lick his lips and look at nothing in particular. He looks as if battling himself whether to say something, or not.

I bite my lip. He notices my action and watches with the corner of his eye. I don't know what he's thinking. He turns his head to face me, and looks me in the eye for a longer moment. The feeling of it is very intimate, yet alarming.

I clear my throat, moving away, sinking into my seat. "Come on, let's go."

I try not to look at him as he starts the engine.

I wake up, immediately blinking repeatedly, adjusting my eyes to light. I realise that I'm in a car, with Nathan next to me.

"Nice of you to _finally_ wake up," he says in a mocking tone, not lifting his eyes off his phone.

 _"_ Why didn't you just wake me up yourself?" I ask sleepily, rubbing my neck.

"'Cause–" He stops, obviously thinking. "I don't have to explain myself to _you_. Now get the fuck out."

"Thanks for the ride," I say sarcastically, undoing my seatbelt.

"Thanks for wasting my time," he replies, and drives away as soon as I'm out.

* * *

Chloe drops me off at Blackwell, and as I try to get into the classroom, Mr. Jefferson stops me.

"Are you alright, Max? You don't look good, is there anything on your mind?"

 _Uh-oh. Do I have something on my face? Is my hair messed up? Max, way to embarrass yourself in front of the hottest teacher_ ever _!_

"No, I'm just _super tired_ , but thank you for asking, it's nice to know that at least some teachers care about their students."

He notices my forehead wound, and furrows his eyebrows.

"I don't mean to be nosey, Max, but _you_ , hanging out with _Nathan Prescott?_ It doesn't look too good. Especially with that scar."

As I accidentally glance at Nathan, I notice him already staring, not at me, but Mr. Jefferson.

"And I know it's not my business, but I'd never take you for the partying type of girl."

"I'm really not, Mr. Jefferson, " I assure him. "I'm just helping Nathan with some studies. I mean, _me_ and _Nathan Prescott?_ _No way_ that is happening."

"Ah, good, you don't really suit the whole bad girl outlook. But, sorry for being paranoid, I just don't want you getting with the bad crowd."

After another minute or so of talking, his cellphone rings, and I finally go up to my desk. Surprise, surprise, Nathan _and_ Victoria are sitting on my table. As I approach, Nathan walks up to me, and takes me by an arm.

"You stay away from him, Max," he whispers, and I furrow my eyebrows at his furious expression.

"Mr. Jefferson?" I ask, and as I notice his hands shaking, he releases me.

" _Don't_ trust him," his jaw clenches. I hug my elbow.

"You're creeping me out, he's just a teacher– "

"He's not, Max!" He raises his voice, attracting everyone's attention towards us.

I swallow hardly, softening my glance. "OK," I touch his shoulder awkwardly. "OK, I'll keep an eye out," I say, not meaning it. Mr. Jefferson is the coolest teacher ever. _Why would I be afraid of him?_

A long moment passes. He finally relaxes his muscles and looks away. "I want to talk to you about– " Mr. Jefferson steps into the classroom, cutting Nathan off. I notice Warren standing in the doorway, looking at us, hurt expression on his face.

As Nathan moves away, I catch him by his shirt. "Tell Warren. Tell him that there's nothing going on between us."

He stares at me with a weird look, and takes my hand off of him. "Fine," he grunts, and leaves the room angrily.

I take my place with a loud beating heart, ignoring Victoria's suspicious looks thrown in my way. I can't, however, concentrate on anything, and soon enough, Zachary storms in and shouts to go check the 'crazy shit' going on at girl's dormitories.

I get a text from an unknown number.

 **mx dorms hurry**

 **n**

 _How did he even get my number?_

"Max!" Nathan catches up to me quickly. He looks terrified. "You _have to_ get her off!" He pulls me forward by an arm, and I swallow hardly, confused.

 _Get who off? Get her off what?_

My stomach sinks as I see Kate standing on the rooftop, her body looking vulnerable and tiny. I gasp as she jumps down.

 _God, oh my God,_ I rewind. She jumps again. I rewind and run to the door but she jumps again. I trip and I rewind just before she hits the ground. Nathan helps me up.

Jump. Rewind. Jump. Rewind.

A pain forms in my head, the feeling is so intense it feels almost as if my skull is being opened up.

My nose is bleeding so heavily that it gets to my mouth, metallic taste making my insides turn. Nathan supports me as I reach out with my right hand, and rewind. An unfamiliar sensation takes over my body, and I nearly scream in agony.

Everything and everyone freezes up.

 _Did I just do that?_

I look at Nathan. He's not moving.

I walk slowly towards the doors, although it feels like moving in the water that pushes you back the harder you try to push forward.

* * *

Once I'm finally back at the dorm, and about to go into my room, I hear Victoria's voice behind me.

"Max?" She was clearly crying. "Could I please have a word with you?"

I turn around, and see her standing in the doorway, tissue in hand and red eyed.

"Of course," I say tirelessly, following her into the room. We both sit on a couch in silence.

"Do you think she will ever, like, forgive me?" She asks suddenly, looking up at me with sad eyes. I immediately feel sorry for her.

"Kate has a good heart. I'm sure she will," I answer quietly, looking down at my shoes.

"I can't believe that you actually went up there, and talked her into getting down," she cries, running a hand through her hair. "You really are an Everyday Hero, Max," she turns to me, somehow embarrassed. "I'm sorry for being such a bitch to you, I can see why Nathan likes you now."

 _Wait, he what?_

"I'll have to apologise to Kate, and send her like flowers or something. Thanks for getting her down, Max. I'd never forgive myself if you didn't."

* * *

As I get back to my room, Nathan is already sitting on my bed, deeply thinking about something. I'd normally say that he can't just enter whenever he pleases, but I'm drained.

I slowly settle myself on the bed as well, with a comfortable distance from him.

"I left the doors opened," he says quietly, staring blankly before him.

I furrow my eyebrows. "What?"

"The rooftop ones. I opened them with a stolen key."

"Why would you do that?" I ask weakly.

"I had no choice," he covers his face with both hands, leaning forward.

"I nearly shot a drug dealer today," I blunt out, near tears.

Nathan's remaining silent, probably not knowing what to say and I stare at Kate's bunny moving around in her small cage.

"Come on," he says, getting up. "Let's just fucking go."

I follow him without objections.

We went to a forest. It's already dark out, and also really cold. _A perfect place to hang out at when You're feeling emo._

We go deep into the darkness and then we stop, and I notice it.

Nathan's pulling a gun out of his pocket.

A gun.

He lifts it up and points it at me.

"I'm sorry," he says with a sorry look in his eyes.

 _What the fu_ _–_

* * *

 **A/N: This chapter was rewritten.**


	5. Chapter 5 : Shut Up And Drive

Chapter V _, Shut Up and Drive._

* * *

I immediately reach my right hand forward. _I need to rewind. He's going to shoot me._

 _He lured me here to get rid of me silently . . . Why the fuck did I even agree to come here with him in the first place?! Max, how stupid can you be?!_

He moves the gun around and hands it to me by the handle, placing it firmly into my outstretched hand.

 _What?_

A puzzled expression on my face makes him furrow his eyebrows.

"You weren't expecting me to _apologise_ , huh?" He says mockingly, faint annoyed glint flickering in his ocean cold eyes.

My chest drops with relief. "Apologise for _what_? And _why_ are you giving this to _me_?" My voice comes out harsher than I expect for it to be.

 _God_ , I really thought he was going to shoot me for a moment. _I need to be more careful._

"Look, by the look of it, it's pretty damn clear that you have no idea about self defence. Since we're kinda stuck with each other, I can as well just teach you how to at least use a gun."

His words take me by surprise. _Since when does_ he _care about my safety?_

"Very generous of you, but I don't need some asshole to teach me how to work his stupid gun," I answer angrily, pushing the weapon back into his chest. I don't want to have anything to do with guns after today. Almost shooting Frank makes me sick even when I think about it. _I would actually shoot someone . . . Would I_ kill _him? Jesus, Max, stop overthinking it._

" _Well_ , Max, some _asshole_ might actually help to save your punk ass one day. Just think about it, what happens when somebody pulls a knife on you and you can't even point the gun properly, huh! You _die_ , that's what. Now stop whining like a little bitch and come with me," with that said, he moves forward. I stare at him for full two seconds before following him.

 _Dude_ , I really fucking hate that asshole and how right he is.

After a short silent walk, we reach a place where we find an old couch, few barrels and empty beer cans, suggesting it's someone's little hang-out. _Probably Nathan's and his drug buddies'._

He moves the rusty barrels around; I count four in total. _OK, what the hell is he doing?_

"You're gonna try to shoot the middle of each barrel," he says while maintaining eye contact, making sure I understand.

"Sounds easy," I answer uninterested, taking the gun from him and standing some distance away from the first barrel. I point the weapon at its middle and _–_

" _Shoot,"_ he whispers into my ear, warm breath taking me by surprise and causing me to pull the trigger; the force of gunshot forcing me to drop the gun and I step back, falling into Nathan's body. He helps me regain my balance and he picks the gun up, while I massage my wrists.

"What the hell, Nathan!" I shout frustrated. "Don't stand so close to me!"

"Why not? Do I make you nervous, _virgin_?" The word 'virgin' sounds extremely offensive in his mouth.

"Fuck you," I answer furiously, taking on the second position.

I lift the gun up again and try to target another barrel. I pull the trigger and this time I don't drop it, but it hurts all the same. The bullet doesn't hit the rusty skin of the barrel, it barely even touches it.

I don't get how people can even use it properly. It's hard to maintain and the impact of the gunshot shots an unpleasant vibrations through your skin.

I sigh.

"Try again," he says patiently.

I do, but it hits the tree instead. I look at him hopelessly, but he points with his head at the barrel, encouraging me to carry on.

After five more shots, he walks up to me and explains thoroughly how to aim.

"Can't you just show me instead?" I ask desperately, biting my lip.

He doesn't answer, staring at me for a while. Finally, he stands behind me and places his hands atop mine, and that's when I switch off, totally blanking out his words. My heart begins to beat faster, reminding me of the time when he choked me with those very same hands.

His finger applies pressure on my finger, and we pull the trigger together. His aim is perfectly on point.

"Now try yourself," his hands finally are lifted off me, relief making my arm act by itself and shoot.

"Finally," he jokes, smiling. "You're a loser, but at least not a total loser."

I pull a face on him.

"Now, shoot _me_."

"Uh, _what_?" I'm taken aback.

"You'll rewind afterwards so no harm done."

 _How can he sound so calm about it?_

"Why would I do that?" I ask annoyed, unsure of his intentions. "I know I hate your guts but _–"_

"I want to see if you have it in you to shoot a human being."

I open my mouth to protest.

"Of course you don't," he laughs, clearly amused. "I don't know why I even suggested that."

"Watch me," I say as I pull the trigger while aiming at his crotch. But there aren't any bullets left.

"Wow, Max, so you aren't a goody two shoes after all. _Man_ , I _can't_ believe You'd shoot me. Where's the trust at?" He asks, faking betrayed expression on his face.

"You _asshole_ ," I throw the gun onto the ground, crossing my arms.

 _I'm just kidding_. That's what happens in my head. But in reality . . . I'm too chickened out to do something like that. So I just look at the ground with my doe eyes, letting him laugh at my cowardliness.

He stands up in front of me, straightening his back fully to represent his height. His cold eyes scan my face seriously, stern expression causing me to swallow nervously.

"Enough fucking around, Caulfield. Since you're too much of a pussy to handle a gun, there's no real hope for you," his cold hand yanks the weapon out of my grip, causing me to stare at him angrily. I watch as he sits down onto the dirty couch, putting his legs onto one of the barrels.

 _Of course_ , he then pulls out a plastic box of beer from underneath the sofa, instantly opening one bottle and taking a thirsty sip. " _Gross_ , beer is for peasants," his expression turns disgusted and frustrated, a furrow of his eyebrows suggesting great dissatisfaction. "Speaking of peasants," he looks up at me, and throws unopened bottle at me. I panic and catch it in the last second.

"I don't bite," he adds in a stoic tone, lifting left eyebrow up at me.

 _Yeah, right. I'm sure you just swallow like a shark._

"Can I just remind you that you're driving us back?" I say annoyed with his behaviour. _There's no way I'm getting in the car with him while he's been drinking._

He lets out a tired sigh. "See, virgin, _that's_ why you don't have friends."

"I'm not exactly convinced that you have any either."

"What did you just say?" He gets up quicker than I have the chance to step back, and he's drilling his murderous eyes into me.

"Admit it, Nathan, your Vortex Club elite only cares about your money and drugs."

 _I've hit the sensitive spot._

He's clenching his jaw with fury, breathing in heavily through his nose.

"I'm gonna call a cab while you drink by yourself in your little hang-out," I say, trying to get past him, but he catches my wrist, turning me around.

His face seems angry, however grip is gentle. I search his eyes for his next move, but they tell me nothing. He's too unpredictable. One moment he may seems alright and then the other he may shoot me in the face.

"You haven't finished your beer," his voice soft, he releases me but doesn't step back.

"I'm not going to drink it, Nathan," I hand the bottle back to him and begin to walk away.

But I realise that I have no idea which way to go and I will end up just getting lost. So I slowly turn around and defeated, look at the boy again.

He smirks, taking a sip from his bottle as he sits back down onto the sofa.

 _Man, what an asshole._

Ashamed, I slowly walk towards him and sit on a nearby barrel. _No way I am sitting next to him_.

"Can we go now?" I ask while trying to warm myself up with my hands.

He rolls his eyes and lights up a cigarette. _Man, are you cereal? I just wanna go home._

"Might as well, since all you do is complain," he states calmly, getting up. I exhale with relief as I stand up as well. He walks past me, cigarette smoke getting all in my face.

 _What an asshole._

* * *

I look as Nathan opens his door with keys, the moonlight coming from the window illuminating his face; deep ocean hue of his eyes shining beautifully and _–_

"Stop staring at me, you weirdo," his annoyed voice brings me back into focus.

 _No way. I did not just totally zone out while staring at Nathan Prescott._

 _Jesus, I totally did._

"I wasn't _staring_ , you ass," I answer defiantly. "I was wondering how long it's gonna take for you to figure out how to open a door lock."

"Why did you even follow me here you fucking lunatic?!" He gets in my face, slamming an open palm onto the wall right next to my head.

"I just _– uh_ just wanted to make sure you don't cause any more troub _–"_

The door in front of me suddenly opens. " _Max_?"

 _Goddamnit, Warren._

"Hi, Warren," I say quietly, massaging my elbow awkwardly while Nathan turns his head around to look at him.

"Dude, take your hands off of her," Warren steps closer.

" _Dude_ , my hands aren't even fucking on her," Nathan straightens up and stares hardly at Warren, his arm still rested against the wall next to me.

"Max, are you alright?" He asks, obviously concerned. I smile weakly.

"Yeah, I was just _leaving_ ," I say while looking at Nathan angrily. He returns the stare with just as much intensity.

"I don't think you were," he cocks his head to the side and grips my neck with his hand.

"Dude, what the fuck?!" Warren quickly closes the space between us and punches Nathan in the face.

As much as I would like to watch Nathan get what he deserves, I lift my right hand and rewind.

As soon as I hear Warren's door being opened, I swiftly dive under Nathan's arm and literally swing myself into his room.

Nathan turns around and stares at Warren while I hide in the darkness.

"What the fuck do _you_ want, Gayram?" He asks furiously.

"I'm almost certain that I heard Max out here," he answers while looking around confusingly.

"Yeah, maybe in one of those weird and pervy fantasies of your for sure, sicko," with that said, he walks into his room and slams the door loudly behind him.

I don't dare to move.

"Did you really have to fucking rewind? I felt pretty damn good about slamming his head against the wall," he closes the space between us and shoves me to the side. I land on something soft, probably a bed. It's too dark out and I can't see where he stands.

"Nathan, calm down or I'll shout," I warn weakly, reaching my arms forward to see if he's in front of me.

"Not if I knock you out first," he laughs and I feel a hand being clasped over my mouth violently as I'm being pushed onto my back. Nathan hoovers over me.

I touch his face with both hands, intending on scratching him again, but he takes the palm off my mouth and lowers himself onto me. He's staring at me like I'm his prey that he's about to feed on.

I don't know what to do so I reach for his neck and bring him closer with all of my strength, pulling him into a tight embrace. "It's okay, Nathan, calm down," I whisper in tears, my fingers travelling underneath his hair for the feeling of reassure.

He doesn't do anything at first, but slowly I sense him shaking.

"I'm here, Nathan, it's okay," I assure him again, the weight of his body on me making me extremely uncomfortable.

He hugs back and lifts me up, shifting us into a sitting position.

"I'm so so sorry," he says quietly into my ear; his breath once again making my mouth turn dry right away. I don't know what is happening to me, but I'm scared.

I've never been this close to him before, and I don't like it.

"Sorry for everything, Max. So sorry," he continues, slowly pulling away, not directly facing me. "I'm such a dick because I can't control myself and I do everything I can to scare you off because I don't want you getting hurt _–"_

"You already hurt me, Nathan. You choked me, you _–"_

"I know, _I know_ ," he cuts me off quickly. "But if you carry on following me like a fly then you'll get hurt even more, and not even by me _–"_

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't tell you, Max, I can't tell anyone," he gets up and nervously begins pacing around the room. "Look, just get the fuck out of here and watch your flat ass from now on," he opens the door. Warren falls onto the floor at the impact.

"What the fuck _–"_

"Uh _– hey_ ," Warren quickly gets up onto his feet.

I stand up and duck behind the bed quietly.

"I think I lost a dollar near your door, have you seen it anywhere?" Warren asks awkwardly, pretending to look around for it.

 _Such a bad liar._

"Are you fucking eavesdropping on my conversation?!" Nathan shouts furiously, taking a step forward.

Warren looks inside the room and I quickly duck my head. "A conversation _normally_ requires two or more people engaging, y'know? Are you talking to yourself, man? Or the voices in your head? 'Cause that'd be understandable _–"_

"What did you say?!" He grabs him by the collar, and Warren holds his hands up.

"Woah, man, chill out, it's cool, I'm sure you were just on a phone call or somethin'."

"For your fucking information I was _– Yeah_ , on a call alright. So get your ass out of here back to your slums," he releases him and slams the door again.

"Maybe that's a sign that you should stop with the drugs, dude!" Warren shouts from the hallway.

"You little _–"_

"Nathan!" I whisper angrily.

He turns around and runs a ran through his hair. Then awkwardly gestures with his hand at the door.

"Yeah, you should get out too."

"I'd love to," I answer, walking towards the exit.

"Hey _–"_ He says as I place my hand on the handle.

"What?" I look up.

"You hungry?"

* * *

As soon as I see the Two Whales sign, I undo my passenger seat and wait till Nathan parks his car, then I open the door and go out, night air filling my lungs.

 _I love night air, it's so refreshing and calming._

There is only a pair of truckers inside and an older man sitting in the corner. _Perfect_.

I head to my usual booth and Nathan follows me, sitting in the opposite seat. A moment later the waitress comes to take our order.

"Coffee and a cheeseburger, please," I say tirelessly, resting my head on my hand.

"Soda," he answers uninterested while looking out the window.

I have to say, the atmosphere between us is _tense_ . . . _To say at least_. He didn't say a word to me on the way here, and now he wouldn't even acknowledge my presence.

"We came here to talk," I finally break the silence between us. "So let's talk."

He doesn't look at me.

And he doesn't answer.

I sigh. "Nathan, I only agreed to come because you said you'll tell me everything."

Silence still.

I get up.

"Sit down," he commands, sharp eyes pierced into me.

I sit down.

"You're lucky I'm hungry," I say.

"Look, Max _–"_

The waitress sets our orders down. "Here's your food."

"Thank you," I say with a smile.

When I see a hot, delicious smelling cheeseburger, I don't have to think twice. I immediately bury my teeth in it.

Nathan seems relieved that he doesn't have to talk, and opens his soda can with one movement.

I wipe my mouth on the napkin and drink the dark coffee; a rush of caffeine making me wild awake.

"I'm still waiting, you know," I say between the bites.

He annoyingly shakes his head. "Look, this isn't the right place for me to tell you this."

"Then why did you choose it?" I ask with furrowed eyebrows. _Ouch_. My forehead is still sore when I make angry faces.

He shrugs. "You were hungry."

I exhale patiently. As I finish my food, I lean forward. "Start from the beginning. I want to know everything, why you drugged Chloe and Kate and why did you say that you killed Rachel," I say quietly and calmly. I notice his finger beginning to nervously tap on the table.

"Why did I say that I killed Rachel? Hmm, let me think. Because I _did_ ," he blurts out. "I drugged that punk friend of yours because I was _bored_. That day in the bathroom, I wanted to kill her because I am a _maniac_. I _enjoy_ pain. That's why I also drugged Kate. And I also drugged Rachel because of that same reason."

I slowly move away, my back meeting the booth. I swallow with difficulty.

"I know that's not true, Nathan. Just tell me the truth, you can trust me _–"_

"Oh, this _is_ the truth," he smiles, his hands shaking. "I like to get rid of the evidence. That's why I left the rooftop doors opened, for Kate to jump down and kill herself."

I shake my head. "No."

"Oh, yes, Max."

"No, I don't believe you. I know that you are working for somebody."

"Wha _–_ No!" He answers too fast, forced. I can tell that he is scared.

"Is that person threatening you?" I ask softly.

" _Nobody_ is threatening me," he says with difficulty, facing the ground with his hand on his head.

"Nathan," I reach my arm to touch him, but he gets up and leans against the counter, taking money out of his wallet.

"Max," he says quietly. "I killed Rachel and buried her in the junkyard," his tone is calm and slow, each word said with caution. "And if you dare to tell someone," he takes a pause and slams the bill onto the counter. "I will hunt you down and fucking kill you, you hear me?"

I'm frozen in place.

"I will take sick pictures of your dead body and make sure nobody ever finds you."

I stare at his back. I can feel myself shaking and becoming weaker.

My heart brushes against my chest. It's beating so fast it hurts.

He's a monster. It's true he _– he's a murderer._

I quickly get up and almost run to the door. I trip down the stairs and fall onto the hard ground. I notice Nathan staring at me through the window and rushing towards the exit as well.

 _Oh my God–_

I immediately get up and begin to run. When I hear him calling after me, I begin to sprint.

 _I don't want to be his next victim, I–_

I turn around to see if he's following.

 _He–_

 _Shit!_

I hear a loud noise of tires braking and then I hit something in front of me. Hard.

I fall to the ground at the impact, blacking out.

"Shit!–" A faint female voice shouts somewhere near me. I can't locate it.

My ears ring.

"Max?! Max, are you okay?!" The girl lifts my head up and I think places it onto her lap.

"Max!" Another, male voice follows.

"What the fuck are you–"

"Ughh," I moan, opening my eyes slowly.

"Max!" A blur of blue flashes in front of my eyes.

I turn onto my side and throw up.

"I swear to fucking God if you did something to her–!" Chloe screams at Nathan, patting my back at the same time and making sure my hair isn't getting in the way.

" _Me_?! It was _you_ who fucking hit her, you punk!" He shouts back.

"Wouldn't happen if she wasn't running away from _you_ , dickhead!"

I slowly stand up, Nathan catching me as I'm about to fall.

"Don't you fucking even touch her–" Chloe lunges forward but I outstretch my hand to stop her.

"Chloe, please, take me home," I cry.

Nathan takes me by surprise as he lifts me up.

Chloe protests. "What are you–"

"Open the car doors," he says rudely, and she quickly does so.

"Max, I'm so sorry," he whispers into my ear. "What I said– it wasn't true," he says reluctantly.

"Come _on,_ " Chloe hurries him up, annoyed.

He gets me into the car and when Chloe isn't looking, he puts his lips to my cheek, whispering, "Be safe."

 _What the hell–_

Chloe pushes her foot down onto the gas pedal as soon as I'm inside.

"Where are we going?" I ask, still stunned.

"We're getting more evidence to finally fucking put that psycho behind bars."

"That's good," I answer.

* * *

 **A/N: Rewritten.**


	6. Chapter 6 : There Is No Us

Chapter VI, _There is no_ us _._

* * *

I stare at the screen, its light irritating my pupils, deepening my already excruciating headache.

I follow the words carefully with my eyes, sentence after sentence and I take a longer while to examine the drawings and emails, which make my hand resting on the mouse feeling sweaty. _I feel like a complete, utter shit._

I feel her blue eyes on me, trying to figure out how I'm taking all of it in.

''Let's go,'' I finally say, taking a step back as I clear my throat, keeping a straight face which isn't an easy thing to do at the moment.

I expected something worse than this and I'm glad it wasn't anything like it. _I mean_ , I already knew everything she showed me about him. _Well_ , maybe everything _apart_ from his attempt at stealing Tobanga. _Did he seriously do that? Did he just thought 'oh, that is a nice statue, it would look cool in my room'? Did he even think it through?_ It wouldn't even fit in his doorframe.

''What?'' She asks with furrowed eyebrows, clearly expecting more. "So that's it? You . . . you're not _mad_? Scared? _Nothing_ at all?'' She gets up, her mouth forming a nasty grimace.

''Chloe,'' I say softly. ''I just ran into your truck at full speed. I'm anything but mad. In fact, _I'm exhausted._ '' My tone is tired, and although I drank coffee, my eyelids are slowly beginning to close themselves. ''All it says is basically that he's an unstable, spoiled asshole – I already knew all that. I think everyone sane does.''

His Blackwell record is spotless, he has a GPA I would never ever dream of, _but_ the stuff on Principal Well's computer says something completely different. _Enormous_ _potential, but also erratic behavior, recommendation to remove him from school and place him under expert psychological supervision_ etc. . . I didn't know things were _that_ serious.

I stand around as she looks through the desk's drawers and takes an envelope out of it. I know what she wants to do just as she opens it and counts the money hidden within it.

She looks up, wanting my agreement to take it, so I nod, and her eyebrows rise in surprise.

''You deserve it," I shrug, and bite my lip. ''I was such a bad friend to you, Chloe . . . I fucked up, _I know_. I'm so sorry,'' I add with a slight difficulty. ''Plus, it'll bite the Prescotts right in the ass.''

She throws her arms around me and I try not to cry, holding back tears. _I'm such a crybaby_.

When she takes out the keys and asks if I care for a midnight swim, I feel like dancing.

No matter how much we argue, we both know we can't stay mad at each other for too long.

* * *

As soon as I step in, the smell of bacon grease and rich aroma of fresh made coffee hits my nostrils, immediately making my appetite crave for something to eat.

I look around. Frank is sitting in the corner, however I can't make out the keys anywhere on the table. I'm sure he's got them in his pocket where I won't be able to reach them.

I notice a familiar figure sitting at mine and Chloe's booth, so I freeze in place. _OK, what now? Maybe he won't notice me?_

 _I_ need _to speak with him. He said what he told me wasn't true. It may be a lie, but I've no reason to be afraid. He will not attack me with a police officer sitting right here, right?_

''Hey," I say, settling myself opposite of him, causing his head to immediately rise, his eyes widening in shock as – _I think_ – he studies my clothes.

A clear disappointment washes over his face. ''Nice outfit," he comments rudely, looking back down at his unopened soda and a camera I'm familiar with.

"About yesterday– "

"Spare it," he cuts me off. "How are you feelin'?" His simple question seems genuine, hiding away a hint of worry behind it.

I look at his face in silence. My scratch on his cheek is very much visible, however doesn't take away his attractiveness. I doubt anything would. He's a Prescott. If nature wasn't so kind to him, his family's money would be.

''Like I just got hit by a car,'' I answer and he laughs underneath his breath. I smile at that reaction.

"How's your head?" He asks afterwards, opening the can and taking a sip out of it.

''Fine, but I think I'll get rid of my carpet,'' I say with a grin, remembering my unfortunate fall.

He takes another sip of his drink whilst looking out the window.

''I saw your pictures," I say unsurely. "They're very . . . _unique_ ; you obviously have a great eye, " I add, observing his fingers tapping nervously on the table.

I didn't think I'd ever say that, but when I looked through Mr. Jefferson's folders, I noticed a picture in black and white, it said it was taken by Nathan, but I'd never think he was into photography. He is carrying around a camera, but I've never seen him taking _actual_ pictures.

He smirks, shaking his head lightly. "I got told they're too disturbing."

''Maybe," I take a while to answer. ''But they are realistic. They show the black and white colours of the world; and the image of the inevitable death." I take out the picture of a dead pigeon I took earlier, and place it on the table.

He studies it silently, his sparkly blue eyes focusing on the vortex of ants surrounding the bird, the seriousness of his face so deep I can't state whether he's liking it or not.

I don't want to interrupt him, but the question I want to ask is killing me and I can't wait any longer.

''How the hell did you want to steal Tobanga?'' I ask, holding back laughter. He looks up, confused at first but his eyebrows twitch just after that.

'' _What_?'' He asks, shifting in place and resting a head on his hand.

''Someone told me,'' I lie. ''That you tried to steal it.'' I say, observing the frustration forming in his eyes.

''I was– stoned," he quickly brushes it off and massages his wrist, turning to look at the window.

He's dressed in a black sweater and a white shirt underneath. I suspect that he needed to give his signature jacket to washing, as it was ruined by paint. Again, _my fault_.

''I need Frank's RV keys," I say, upfront, gaining his attention. ''Any ideas how to get them?''

''I won't even ask," he finishes the soda off, and looks around for the waitress. ''I guess you could get him to empty his pockets onto the table, take the keys and run.''

''How am I going to do that, exactly?'' I ask, unconvinced of his amazing plan. I can take his keys and rewind, of course, but how about the hardest part?

He shrugs. ''Ask him about Rachel's photo or something.''

"Thanks," I get up from the booth and hug my elbow closer to myself. "Hey."

He looks up.

"You look good."

His eyebrows seem to perform a tango, changing from being surprised to being confused.

"Yeah. Wish I could say the same about you."

 _What an absolute asshole._

I turn around to go, but I feel his grip around my wrist. It's gentle but firm. ''Max, about yesterday– _You have no idea how sorry I am_ –''

''Nathan,'' I look at him empathically. ''I know you'll tell me the truth once you're ready. But it must be soon, _otherwise_ –''

''Fuck the truth, Max, I– I really didn't want you to get hurt, _fuck_ – I'm so sorry.''

I slowly take his hand off of me. ''You can't change who you are, Nathan. I understand that.''

* * *

 _I don't know what happened._

I was just looking at the picture and _it_ happened. I heard voices, the image began to move, and there was only darkness and then light and now I'm lying on my bed, facing my memorial wall and I don't know what to think about it all.

 _I changed the past._

 _How is this even possible?_ It shouldn't be a surprise to me, _but_ . . . I can rewind, stop the time and change certain events from a picture. _How hardcore is that?_

I know something's wrong straight away.

The pictures are mainly of me, Victoria and Nathan partying, having fun at the beach, shopping, or just taking a bunch of silly selfies. No picture of Chloe, _not even one_.

I hear someone breathing next to me, and I know that person is sleeping. A thrill goes through my body, wondering if it's Chloe crashing at my place for whatever reason it could be.

I slowly turn my head, and receive a mild shock. _Well, it's not someone I'd expect it to be_ . . .

It's Nathan, _not_ Chloe.

His chest is naked, but I can't place if _he's_ naked, because of the covers on top of him. I look at myself and I know we _definitely_ slept together.

I'm wearing only my underwear and it's not the cotton I usually wear; it's lacy and . . . _well, sexy._

I slowly get up, not wanting to wake him up, carefully searching the floor for my clothes. His and probably mine clothes are scattered all over the floor and I actually have problem with making out which ones are mine, because I don't see my usual grey jacket and simple jeans.

There are two jackets, one is red and the other blue, leaving me to guess that the blue one belongs to Nathan, as it's the same as the one in my . . . _well_ , timeline or _whatever_ you'd call it, just the colours have changed.

I scan the surroundings, but my room is _completely_ different. My wardrobe is full of expensive brand clothes and I can't help but wonder if Nathan got all of this stuff for me.

I put a plain black tank top on, the red jacket and grey jeans, knowing I have to check what's going on with Chloe.

I notice a big plasma TV, and _it's so damn tempting to try it out_ . . .

I head to the bathroom in a hurry to make myself look decent, however my hands are shaking so badly that I'm unable to do my make-up, so I just leave it be. _There's not time anyway._

As I'm about to leave the bathroom, Victoria enters. _Of course._

''Good morning Maxine,'' she says sweetly, a big smile on her face, causing me to raise my eyebrow in question. _Now, what exactly is going on? Is she actually being nice to me?_

''Max. Never Maxine," I correct her right away while drying my hands and looking at the mirror once again.

"Rightttt," she looks at me weirdly. ''Shaking again?'' She notices, looking at my hands. "You know I'm always here for you if you want to talk, Maxin– _Max_. Getting into that new stuff was risky, maybe you should consider stop taking it."

 _Wait, what? Am I a drug addict?_

"Thanks, Victoria. Will do," I walk out.

I search my pockets for a phone, but once I don't find it, I get nervous. I head back to my room with hope on finding it there.

Nathan's already woken up, laying on his back and looking at the ceiling. As I enter, his attention turns to me straight away.

"Hey, Freckles," he says in a voice so loving, my mouth goes dry.

"Have you seen my phone?" I ask straightforwardly, my voice shaking. _I need to get out of here as soon as possible._

"Awh, babe, you don't need it while you're with me," he gets up, and I'm relieved to see him wearing boxers. _Wow, his body_ . . . "I know how to keep you busy in many other ways," he smiles, taking my face into his hands, and kisses me.

He kisses me, his lips soft and surprisingly warm. When he opens his eyes, and looks at me, I stare back, not knowing what to do. The deep, blue hue of his iris is enchanting, sending a loving and so unlike him look towards me. He smells of freshness, and surprisingly, not cigarettes and strong cologne, as I've remembered.

His warm hand touches my neck. I don't dare to breath as he places his lips softly on mine again.

"You know," he mumbles. "A kiss usually requires both sides to move their lips."

Embarrased, and paralysed, I try to kiss him back, but he slightly moves away.

"Damn," he breathes, causing me to look at him.

As my thinking is already turned off, I don't even attempt to understand what he means, and I place a quite sloppy kiss on his lips. Embarrased, I look away, but he pulls me closer to himself, making the kiss passionate. I'm really bad for a moment, but finally manage to find a pace that'd suit the both of us.

He bites my bottom lip, and moves to my neck, sending thrills through my body. The feeling is too pleasant, making me realise who the person kissing me right now is, causing all the alarms in my body ring, shouting at me to stop.

 _What am I doing?_

"I can't," I say, pulling him away from myself.

"Right, we don't want you to be late for your lessons," his gentle smile causes my throat to tighten. He kisses my forehead, and picks his clothes off the floor.

I stand still, feeling hot, my heart beating so fast I can feel it.

I notice a phone laying on the desk. I'm not sure if it's mine, because it's brand new and expensive, but I reach for it anyway. If it's Nathan's, he'll surely say something.

 _This is weird. All of this feels alien, wrong,_ and I just want to see Chloe as quickly as possible.

Nathan walks up to me again, getting dressed. He kisses my cheek and places his chin on my shoulder. His touch makes me shiver.

I turn around. He looks at me, concerned. "Everything okay?" He looks different, yet the same. Like . . . his body is the same, but it's not. His features are softer and eyes more happy, more . . . alive.

 _Is it because he's with me?_

"I'm just gonna miss you while I'm at class, that's all," I smile, bringing him closer to myself. _I wish I could do this to the Nathan I know._

Once I have the phone in my hand, I go to the messages, and I freeze. Loads of messages from Nathan, Victoria and Taylor. Not even one from Warren. I search for his number, but _it's not even there._

There's Chloe, it looks like I've been contacting her, _so I guess she's doing just fine, right_? _She must be_. I scroll through the messages. It looks like I'm very popular as I see names of people I've never ever heard of before.

''I need to get going to work," I hear Nathan behind me, so I turn around, actually shocked.

''Work? _You work_?'' I ask with disbelief, and he laughs, probably thinking it's adorable for me to joke about it, _when I totally wasn't_. There's no way in hell Nathan Prescott is actually working. _Why would he_? Doesn't he have like shitload of money anyways? _What about his father_?

This universe is so, _so_ different that it shocks me.

"Ha ha, _very funny_ , Max. Only because it's not a fancy job like a _photographer_ , doesn't mean I'm not working my ass off," he replies jokingly, looking at the time on his phone.

"That's not what I meant," I take his hand into mine. He doesn't move it away like the Nathan I know. "I hope you'll have fun," I smile reassuringly.

"I'll see you tonight," he kisses my forehead, and caress my cheek. "I love you," and with that said, he leaves.

I have no time to process all of this . . .

I rush out the door, running where my feet are taking me; to Chloe.

* * *

I sit at the doorsteps, heavy rain hitting my skin and clothes, my body shivering, but eyes deadly glaring at the ground, not blinking as the salty tears are mixing in with the drops of rain.

 _This cannot be real. This cannot be happening to me, us._

I want to go back, but the photograph won't focus, no matter how hard I try, leaving me powerless. _I lost my power. I've lost it._

Chloe is dead, Warren doesn't even know I exist, my parents are way too far away and I have no one to seek comfort in.

. . . No one apart from him.

* * *

 _All of this is real, I am real, he is real, this timeline is real; it's not just something I can erase and go back to my happy little universe where Chloe is still alive, and pissed at me after our fight_ . . .

I look at Nathan.

. . . _I'm not the girl you love_ . . . _This Maxine is. I'm just the weak version of myself, I am so disappointing at every step, no matter how hard I try to help, everything just doesn't make sense, I make it all worse than it ever has been._

This boy is _so_ different. So happy, so free and stable, without problems, without his father.

 _Is this really Nathan?_

 _Have I helped him? Or did he help himself?_

He lies on the bed, breathing through his mouth in a rhythm, a few rebellious strands of hair falling onto his forehead, so I slowly move them away and continue to admire his handsome features, deep lost in my thoughts.

I know I can't stay here, so I carefully get up, not wanting to wake him up. His room is so colourful with all our selfies hanging on the walls, and I even notice a make-up set and my old bag from the other timeline on his desk, suggesting I'm paying him visits very often.

As I'm about to go, I see a DVD with my name and a heart next to it on it. _Is it a mix-tape or something?_

I put in in the DVD player and put earphones to my ears, nervously waiting for it to play, and when I hear Nathan's voice, I freeze, my heart making my chest ache.

''So I hear you like this band so I, er, made you this. Hope you enjoy, Freckles.'' And after that, a music begins to play, a beautiful melody filling my ears.

I put it down immediately and look one last time at Nathan. Then I walk out, tears already falling down my face.

When I walk out, I notice Nathan's room slate.

'The Queen Caulfield and King Prescott rule the Vortex Club Parties.'

I erase it with my sleeve and grab the board pen, fiddling with it for a second before I finally write a short message on it.

'I had to leave early. I love you.'

I reach inside my pocket and dig out the picture of me and Chloe, looking at it for a second, then another one, but nothing happens, so I exhale, frustrated, and sit down, trying once again.

Again, _nothing._

 _Try harder, Max._

I try to focus, to get the picture moving, with heavy heart swallowing the lump forming in my throat as a quiet voice comes out of it.

I once more look at the 111 door, saying my last goodbyes to the boy behind them, knowing I will never see him again.

I open my eyes, only to find myself looking directly into the mirror, dressed in my usual 'hipster' clothes, drying my hair with a towel. The only problem is, I have no idea where I am.

It's _definitely_ not my room, neither a school's bathroom.

I'm not at Chloe's place either.

 _So . . . where the hell am I then?_

After I'm finished with my hair, I slightly open the door to peek through it. Some kind of comedy movie is playing on a big, plasma TV. I look more to the side and see a beginning of a double bed, and when I see Nathan's shoes, I step out.

He's laying down, resting his back against the pillows; his expression focused and somehow serious, the light from TV illuminating beautifully his bored eyes that rest on the one exact place of the screen, suggesting his lack of focus.

After everything that's happened . . . _I am so glad to see him._

After a while, his head slowly turns my way, blue iris still following the event happening on the screen. When the advert pops up, I have his full attention.

I look at the window. The city is lighted well and beautifully. We're clearly somewhere high.

Without thinking, I walk up to the bed, and sit down next to him. We are both looking at each other, however his gaze shows slight confusion.

When we kissed in the other timeline . . . I realised that I don't hate him. He is dangerous. He has mental issues. He killed someone . . .

But when we kissed; I knew that I wasn't kissing him, but the better version of him. Yet, I felt like I am kissing the Nathan I know, and I cannot say that I didn't like it. I had so many mixed feelings. I know that I shouldn't even be considering it, but . . .

 _I just . . ._

 _I have to try._

I place a hand on his face, and his eyes widen. I think he knows what's coming.

His expression seems to say, _Max, what are you doing?_ But nothing comes out of his mouth, not even the slightest sound.

The moment seems to last forever.

I lean in, slowly placing a kiss on his lips.

Once I'm done, I move away, watching his facial expression.

But it doesn't give away anything.

He's just looking at me, his mouth slightly open, eyes glued to mines.

I look down, but he moves my chin up, and kisses me again.

He touches my face with both hands, bringing me closer to himself.

The kisses are quicker now, and more passionate. Nathan even steps up the game by getting his tongue involved.

I suddenly feel something wet against my face, and realise that Nathan is crying.

I stop, looking at him. "I'm here for you, Nathan," I whisper, which causes him to pull me in a close embrace. My heart beats so fast that he is probably able to feel it against his body.

I lay down with him, running a hand through his gelled back hair.

"Nathan, I jumped into a picture today, and totally changed how things turned out. I was in a completely different timeline," I begin, knowing that I have to tell someone. "You and me . . . we were dating, as crazy as it sounds. But you seemed really happy. You even had a job, and were more relaxed . . . " I remain silent for a moment. "I don't remember much of today. _Where are we_?"

"What's the last thing you remember?'' He asks softly, his arms still wrapped around me.

I close my eyes for a moment then open them again. ''Me and Chloe had a fight, and then I jumped into the picture. Not so sure what time it was, but I can see that I was out for few hours,'' I say and he slightly nods, showing me that he's listening.

"You called me after the fight, and said you needed someone to talk to, so I booked us a hotel room."

''Why a hotel? _Did we_ . . . ?" I ask slowly.

"We talked and you went to have a shower. That's all."

 _Pretty legit_ , I always wanted to have a shower in a five star hotel using their little bottle bathroom products.

Nathan sits up to face me. "You hungry?"

* * *

''It's beautiful,'' I say while taking a picture with my camera of the view from the balcony.

"I know," he answers while looking at me. I smile and give him the photo.

"Since you paid for the hotel, it's the least I can do."

He puts it into his pocket, and kisses me on the cheek. "Thank you."

"It's no prob– "

"I mean, for everything," he cuts me off. "I know you will never forgive me for the things that I did. I won't either. Maybe you don't give a shit about me, and I'm not surprised that you don't, but fact is, you're the only one who's here for me right now. Even if you're just Max Caulfield, I wanna thank you."

"Cut the last line off, and _maybe_ I'll take your speech as sincere."

"What I mean, is that sometimes one Max Caulfield proves to be worth more than the whole Vortex Club elite put together, even with Victoria."

"Nathan, I– "

There's a knock on the door.

"About time," he gets up, and heads to get it.

I sigh.

He comes back with the room service. Plenty of different dishes ad wine.

"You were saying?" He sits back down.

"Oh, _just_ . . . You'd look good in blue.''

''I'd look good in anything,'' he answers quickly and pours wine into our glasses.

* * *

It's not easy to enter his room. It's like breaking the pact we've made. It's like breaking off our friendship _or whatever we have._

But I know I have to do it, so I go in, shaking hands griping his busted door handle. After I'm in, I – _of course_ – rewind, not wanting him to know I was here.

I can immediately feel the drop of the temperature, and I know it's because Nathan's got this expensive stuff in there and he must keep it cooled.

There's somehow an intimacy of me being in his room on my own, but _I can't exactly describe it._

It's completely different than his room in the alternative timeline. This one is darker, colder and creepier. With the lights on now, I can finally see how his room really looks like.

It's like being in his mind. _So good yet so wrong._

I look around, examining every detail; and I stop at his diploma from his father, which I find cute but I know Sean Prescott is an asshole and Nathan will be better off without him.

Well, there's desk, camera, some files, speaker, shoes, couch . . . nothing unusual.

A black-and-white movie is playing on his big projector screen and I take a minute to watch it; _it's not a happy film for sure._

I have to say his room is breathtaking. There's just something mysterious and stylish about it. _He surely knows how to design his thing._

When I finally get what I was looking for, I go out and hurry over to Chloe, wanting to run as far as possible from here.

But as I'm looking at his phone, the door suddenly opens and _Jesus, luck is definitely not on our side._

''Max, _what the fuck_?'' He comes towards me and I just stare at him blankly, still holding the device, unable to even blink.

 _Rewind or not?_

 _Be honest or not?_

''I thought I can _trust_ you?'' He says, more disappointed than angry, and when he's about to grab me or whatever with his outstretched hand, Chloe pushes him away from me and then Warren steps between us.

''Max, I've got this," he assures, acting like he's my White Knight and after seeing he didn't even know I existed in the different timeline, it's good to actually see him watching out for me right now.

When Nathan steps closer, Warren head-butts him and I gasp as the boy falls onto the floor, covering his face with one hand and reaching for the gun with the other.

Warren kicks it out of his hand in no time and kicks him in his ribs and I'm afraid I'll hear a crack of bones anytime now.

I am so shocked with Warren's behaviour that I just stand there, staring with disbelief as he beats him to pulp.

 _Wait, what the hell am I doing?!_

''Warren, stop it!'' I push him away with all the strength I have left, and Nathan slowly gets up, picking his gun up and walking away, hand on his ribs, obviously in pain.

Chloe and Warren leave in a hurry, but I stand there for a few seconds, when I finally snap out of it and rush to Nathan's room, but it's locked, so I bang on his door.

''Nathan, open up, please, just let me in . . . " I beg, my voice almost cracking and I move back as he does so. His nose is bleeding heavily, and he's got a bruise on it as well.

''Jesus, I am _so_ sorry . . . " I say, reaching out to touch him, but he moves back and as he heads to sit on the couch, I notice him grimace with pain.

''Pussies can't fucking fight, " he says, but I am too shocked to laugh.

I hurry over to him and kneel, gently moving his hand away from his rib cage.

''I'll get some ice, don't . . . _don't move anywhere_ . . . '' I say shakily, running out. I don't know where to get ice from, so I just buy a cold drink at the vending machine.

My fingertips are numb from the coldness, but I am too nervous to even notice.

''Okay," I kneel, awkwardly trying to figure out what to do. ''Maybe we should get you to the hospital . . . you may have a broken rib or something . . . " I suggest, but he just shrugs it off.

So I put the soda can on the couch and quickly help him remove his blue jacket. It's so sweet to see him actually wearing it just for me, just because of the one thing I said.

He's soon bare chested and I give him the icy soda can, placing it to his hurting place and he slightly shifts as it touches him.

I can see every single bone under his skin. He looks unhealthy, but I don't say a word. However, I can't stop myself from tracing his ribs with my fingers; my touch making him close his eyes, his body shivering at my act.

''Nathan . . . " I say, unable to believe his condition, but he cuts me off.

''Don't. _Don't say a word_.'' His tone is serious and angry, making me immediately shut up.

So I move to his bloody nose, cleaning it up with tissues and trying to be extremely gently.

''You could've rewind.'' He says, looking at anything but me.

''I know, I'm so sorry . . . " I apologize, squeezing the delicate paper in my fist, making it nearly rip.

'' _No_. You could've rewind. You could've rewind and I wouldn't know you've been snooping around in my room.''

''I believe we should be honest with each other," I explain, throwing the tissues into a bin. My hands are stained with his blood, but I don't care.

''Honest, _not_ nosey, Max. Snitches get stitches, you know," he says coldly.

''I'm sorry, I'm just trying to figure out what the fuck is going on, Nathan," I say, tirelessly, looking into his deep blue eyes that are darker than usual in the shadow.

''I'll tell you what's going on, Max. Tonight, you and your friend will go to the party, and you'll die. Just like the others," he nearly spits everything out and I'm surprised with the unexpected flow of anger. ''Just go, Max. I don't want to fucking look at you,'' he adds quietly, looking at his hands.

I stand in the same place for a moment, not even daring to blink in case I miss something important in his facial expression, but it remains the same as it was. Harsh and furious.

''Take my gun, don't even fucking protest," he adds weakly, so I reach for it and stare for a second. He isn't joking, _I am in danger_.

''No,'' I place it back onto the cupboard. ''You'll need it more than I do.''

''Don't fucking tell me what to do, Caulfield."

 _Welcome back, old Nathan Prescott._

''Please, be careful tonight," I say with heavy chest, knowing it might be the last time we'll speak in this life. If I won't be able to stop the tornado, we're all dead, no exceptions.

He laughs mockingly, so I look at him, irritated.

 _I don't get it how the alternative me managed to make him a harmless cinnamon roll. But I did. So I believe I can do it in this universe as well. At least I'll try._

''What about us?'' I ask, and his eyebrows twitch.

''Max," he begins, looking up at me, his deep blue eyes drained from any love he ever had kept deep inside of him. ''There is no _us_.''

I stare at him, dumbfounded.

"Nathan, don't– "

"Max! I said, we've never been a thing. I would never get involved with somebody like you. I just thought you would be an easy score."

"You don't mean that."

"Look, I don't have time for you. _Just get the fuck out_."

I look down, not knowing what else to say. _I know he doesn't mean it . . . or does he? Anyway . . . now's not the time._

I leave.

* * *

 **A/N : Rewritten.**


	7. Chapter 7 : Sin

Chapter VII, _Sin_.

* * *

''Where's Nathan?'' I ask, the words filled with venom and pure hatred, lips pressing hardly against each other with fury.

''Ah . . . Yes, _Nathan_. I've noticed you two have shared an . . . _interesting bond_ over this week _._ It was getting problematic, _you see_. He was getting more and more rebellious, but fortunately, he won't be causing any trouble now," he answers with a stoic expression, taking another, pathetic picture of me.

I breathe out heavily, resting my head against the chair, seeking its support. My body is beginning to feel paralysed and drained out of any energy I had left, due to the drug I have been injected with.

''Where . . is . . he?'' I repeat with great effort, sweat forming on my forehead, vision getting blurrier with each passing minute.

''Now, now, Max. Just _relax_ , I'll be back to you in a minute.''

He turns away to walk off with the camera in hand, his shoes making a sound that's been haunting me for hours and I can't make it stop, can't get it out of my head . . . his footsteps mean that he's getting closer, coming to me with another dose, ready to begin another one of our sick ' _sessions_ ' . . .

I swallow uneasily. ''What did you do to him?"

"You know Max, I thought that's it for him since he's been disobeying me from the moment I've seen the two of you together. I was ready to get rid of him, but guess what happened, Max?" He looked at me, clearly expecting a response. " _Guess_ , Max."

"I don't know."

"Well, _surprise_ ; he actually proved himself useful for once and buried your little friend somewhere."

 _Chloe_ . . .

I yank at the tape with my hands wearily.

"Of course, I could use a little helper, _especially now_ , with so many bodies to hide," he smiles while looking at me. "And then," he shrugs. " _Well_. He'll be no longer of use to me."

I shake my head, forcing myself awake. _Max, you can do this_ . . .

"Max, Max, Max," he steps closer, crossing his arms. "When I saw you and Nathan together, I _knew_ he would sooner or later run his mouth to you, _or worse_ \- take your innocence away."

I close my eyes.

"So _I had to_ step in, and ordered him to open the rooftop doors for our little Kate to use as an opportunity to . . . _well_ , be a proud angel," he smiles again. "Of course, he didn't want to do it. But as soon as I mentioned you becoming my next muse . . . " He shakes his head, entertained. "You would blame him - _an obvious choice_ , and he would be out of the picture. But _no_. No, no no no. No, Max, _what did you do?_ "

I remain quiet.

"What did you do?" He shouts, getting in my face.

"I blamed _you_."

He rambles on in a raised voice, but I zone out. With the corner of my eye, I see a familiar figure approaching from behind the corner, shovel in hand.

Jefferson follows my eyes, and sees Nathan. I expect for him to be surprised to see him, but . . .

He was telling the truth. Nathan is working for him _even now_.

"Finally. _What took you so long_?" He asks, moving away from me.

"There's a big ass fucking tornado outside, if you haven't noticed," he answers angrily, chucking the shovel to the side.

"Ah, I've been rather busy," Jefferson simply exclaims, walking up to his desk.

I stare at Nathan in rage, unable to believe how could he do that. I was so stupid to believe that he's changed.

He looks at me, then at Jefferson. He then slowly pulls something out of his pocket.

I lunge forward, and manage to free one of my legs.

 _It's Chloe's necklace._

He settles it onto the table, and turns around to face Jefferson.

"Nathan," I say quietly. "Don't do this," I cry. "Please . . . I know you're better than this . . . "

"OK, Max, you ready?" Jefferson picks up a syringe, heading towards me.

"Wait!" I shout. "C-can you turn on some music for me, _please_?"

"Of course," he stops mid-track, and changes his destination.

"Nathan," I plead. "It's not too late yet. Please, help me _and_ –"

Jefferson cuts me off. "Nathan, you're distracting my model; could you remove yourself from this room, please?" He walks up to me, jazz music filling my ears.

I look at Nathan, he remains still for a moment, and looks at me with neutral expression, then finally turns to leave. _He really feels nothing, doesn't he?_

"How about some water?" I ask panicked, staring at the needle in Jefferson's hands.

"You're not trying to stall, are you, Max?" He asks with a chuckle, reaching for my neck, causing me to force shut my eyes.

I want to cry, but there's no point, no one to see my tears, no one to help me. I'm alone, not being able to count on anyone else. There's nothing I can do. _Nothing_.

So that's what Rachel felt. And all of his previous victims. There was no one to hear them, no one to bring them justice. No superpowers to save them.

 _Wait. What if I rewind and_ –

I quickly open my eyes, only to see Nathan getting out a gun from his jacket and pointing it at Jefferson's head.

However, Mark uses the tripod next to him to smash it against Nathan's head.

"No!" I cry out as he hits the ground.

"Truly pathetic, Nathan. What a disappointment you are to your family," he wipes his nose with a sleeve, and bends to pick up the gun.

''Nathan, get up! You _have to_ get up!'' I cry, trying to free myself.

''Time to shut you up!'' Mark shouts angrily, pressing the cold weapon to my forehead.

''Stop . . . I'm _begging_ you, stop . . . _just stop_. . . " Nathan says with difficulty, and I try to control my panicked breathing.

He turns around abruptly. '' _Don't_ beg! You always _fucking_ beg, and you know I _hate_ it!''

''Please . . . _please_ . . . just _stop_ . . . "

''What _the fuck_ did I just say, huh?''

''Mr Jefferson!'' I shout, my whole body shaking, and I struggle to take a breath in, it's just like my lungs won't accept the air that I'm giving it. ''You like your objects _tortured_? . . . _Innocent_? _Vulnerable_? Put me next to him . . . and we'll give you what you want," I say, deeply disgusted with my offer, but I have a plan. _At least_ I think it's a plan.

''Good thinking, Max . . . See, Nathan? That's what you need to learn, _how to cooperate."_

He frees me, gun in hand, pointing it at my head, making it clear that there's no point in running or disobeying his orders.

''Lay down on the white screen. Please, don't try anything; I wouldn't want the equipment to be stained with your blood.''

I slowly move forward, looking at the boy's face, a trail of blood making its way down the side of his head, tears now drying off.

''Nathan, _Nathan_ wake up. You have to get up,'' I say, and the man growls, probably losing his patience. He yanks the boy off the floor to stand on his feet, but his expression tells me that he's not completely conscious and aware of the situation, so I help him get onto the white screen.

He doesn't look good, he looks like he's out of it, and I'm afraid that he's going to be gone soon.

''Nathan, can you hear me?'' I whisper, my hand gently stroking his cheek, wanting to keep him conscious as long as possible. He slightly moves his mouth, a quiet moan suggesting he can.

''Everything's going to be okay, I promise. You have to trust me.'' I reach for his hand, keeping it in my grip, and as the flash goes off, I speak again. "I will have no time to tell you this later, but I am going to rewind, and you have to shoot as soon as you can, OK?"

He squeezes my hand.

I hear door being slammed.

Jefferson's reaction is immediate, putting the camera away, quietly getting up against the wall, ready to attack.

Nathan's grip on me loosens, and I have to catch him before he falls to the floor. I lay him down, looking at the person who has just emerged from the corner.

It's David, _oh my God_ , it's David who appears in the room, but Jefferson hits him with the same tripod that he used on Nathan, making him fall onto the floor, too. I gasp as he hits him again and the blood splatters onto the wall, the colour of scarlet now covering the white paint.

I rewind as much as I can.

I gather all of the strength in my body to kick Jefferson with the freed leg before he has the chance to hit Nathan.

The boy looks confused for a second, but seems to remember what happened before I rewound, because he places his finger on the trigger.

Staggering Jefferson quickly regains his balance, and catches Nathan's wrist just as he pulls the trigger, making it shoot the wall.

David runs from behind the corner, immediately charging at Jefferson, who manages to take the gun off of Nathan and shoots Madsen in the stomach.

Nathan punches him in the face, knocking him to the ground. He recollects his gun, and once again, points it at Jefferson.

''What're you gonna do with that, Nathan? _Huh_?" He says, yanking him by the leg, causing him to fall onto his back. "Nothing, that's what."

I feel blood running down my nose, a painful feeling that crushes my skull . . . _I don't think that I can rewind again . . ._

Jefferson gets up and looks at Nathan with distaste. "I wish I had done this sooner," he bends to pick up the gun, but Nathan's quicker, and leaves the man in shock as a bullet lands in the side of the man's stomach, scarlet blood appearing on his white shirt, spreading like a web.

He struggles to keep himself on his feet, colour drained from his face, now looking completely pale and aghast, with disbelief watching his hand covered in red liquid.

''You . . . I gave you _everything . ._ I taught you how to follow my path . . . and you . . . and you fucking _shoot me_?!'' He screams with fury, and watching Nathan's expression is just as painful as Jefferson's pathetic little speech. ''I was like a _father_ to you! You had _no one else but me_! Who covered up after you fucked up with Rachel, huh? _I_ did! I always had your back, _you spoiled brat_!''

''Nathan . . . '' I say, and he turns to look at me, eyes wide, unable to believe what he just did, like it wasn't his finger that pulled the trigger.

He drops the gun and runs both hands through his hair, not being able to control his breathing, and I know he's having a panic attack.

''Nathan, please, _please_ get me out of this . . . '' I beg, feeling another wave of blood coming out of my nose, but both of my hands are tied up, and I'm unable to wipe the fluid away, taste of it meeting my tongue, turning my insides.

He jogs up to me straight away, undoing the stripes with shaking hands. I get up, immediately throwing my arms around him in a tight embrace.

''I'm so sorry . . . " He says, his voice cracking, fingers griping the back of my shirt, sorrowful and honest tears running down his face. ''I never meant to hurt _anybody_ . . . I _never_ meant it for you . . . ''

''I know . . . I _know_ . . . ''

I let him go, seeing Jefferson crawling across the room, leaving a trail of blood behind him like a snail.

"There's no running away from here, Mr Jefferson," I say angrily, clenching my jaw.

What I didn't realise, is that he crawled to his cupboard for a _gun_. A gun that he points at _me_.

He pulls the trigger.

Nathan's body saves me from getting the bullet.

"Sorry," Mark speaks up through coughing. "I've only got one bullet," is all he says before catching his last breath.

Nathan looks at the wound on his body, and falls onto his knees.

I drop down next to him.

''Nathan . . . " I whisper, feeling a lump forming in my throat. "I've seen you get hurt too many times."

''I wanted to save you, Max . . . I really just . . . wanted to–''

''I know, Nathan . . . I _know_ . . . " I cut him off, placing a shaking hand on his chest. ''You _did_ save me. You did a _hella_ good job," I smile.

''Max . . . " He says weakly, but I can't listen to his voice, so I lift my right hand up, ready to rewind. He grips his fingers around my wrist, not allowing me to. ''You need to stop this . . . You need strength, so don't waste it . . . on me . . . Please . . . Do it for me . . . Don't rewind . . . this time . . . ''

This hurts. _It hurts so fucking much._

''If we never . . . get the chance . . . to talk again . . . you have to know that . . . "

A second passes; and another one, but he doesn't finish his sentence.

''What, Nathan? _What_?" I ask hopefully, but only the silence answers me, so I shake him, my lips trembling, tears dropping on his blue, now bloody jacket. ''Nathan . . . Nathan!''

Nothing.

I listen to his chest. _Nothing_.

He's not breathing.

 _Nothing_.

My _head_ is killing me, my _heart_ is killing me, my _power_ is killing me.

The _world_ is killing me.

First _Chloe_ . . . then _David_ , and _Arcadia Bay_ is _next_.

I slowly get up, my eyes looking empty at the boy. I take Chloe's necklace off the table that Nathan set it on, and I put it on.

 _Don't worry, Chloe, Nathan, David . . . I'll bring you back._

I _have_ to fix this. I have to fix _everything_.

* * *

'' _I can't believe_ . . . _I just can't . . ._ Nate, _please tell me_ it isn't true, none of it is. Please, just say it, so I can stop thinking about it . . . " The familiar voice echoes in the room, but this time it's shaken, unsure, doubtful. It surely doesn't sound like the Blackwell's proud and powerful Queen's tone. But everybody can be broken, and they aren't beautiful at the times it happens. They show who they truly are, and most importantly; _what they truly feel._

''I've already taken care of the lawyers, the best ones you could possibly find–''

''You _can't_ help me.'' The other voice stops the girl from speaking, a voice that makes my chest tighten with pain, but I'm not ready yet to see his face, talk to him like nothing has happened.

Everything we've been through . . . the sympathy and desire to help which I have developed for him . . . They can't just go away, and I know I need time to let it go. I know that this man has killed my best friend, and Rachel, which is a double murder. He is also mentally unstable, I have no idea what reaction would I trigger in him and what impact would it have on his health and attitude.

''I don't deserve your help,'' he continues, and judging by the tone of his voice, he's about to break down in tears. But I know he'll hold it in, like he always does, not letting the others in.

This feeling in me . . . it's relief. _Happiness_. I'm glad I've managed to bring him back, to hear his voice, have him alive. Maybe not in the best time and place, but it's better than having him dying in my arms with the person we both hated in the same place, the room that I and its victims will never forget about.

''Nathan, what are you saying . . . ?'' The girl asks quietly, and I know she's crying, probably wiping her tears away right now, but I can't see, instead I sit near the slightly opened door, my finger tapping on the knee, shaking.

''I don't _deserve you_ . . . ''

I bite the inside of my cheek, hiding face in hands, massive lump forming in my throat, heart speeding up, giving me an awful headache that's becoming a migraine.

 _I don't know if I want to be here. I don't know if I want to listen to this._

''Nate, I'm still here, am I not? I care about you, you're like my best friend and you know it,'' she says, now with a complete voice crack, breathing out and in nervously through the mouth.

He deserves better. He deserves a proper mental treatment, not a jail, an evil place that could probably destroy him even more.

''And _Mr. Jefferson_ . . . He . . . He was captured . . . . you'll be safe from now on . . . so why the hell would you want to waste your life in this . . . _place_?'' The way she speaks about Mark, it makes me uneasy, but I have to respect her view. She still thinks it's a mistake and he's innocent. Well, he was her idol, after all. I didn't suspect him either, but here we go, ended up in his Dark Room. She could of too, but I saved her. Ironic, really.

''You don't get it, do you? . . . This way . . . this way I won't hurt anyone. Besides, no one cares. Not even my father, _not even_ – '' His voice is nearly impossible to hear.

'' _Max_ cares too. She came here with me to see you, Nate. And she's going to be the witness in your favour; after all, she was there, she saw that girl bring a gun with her and threaten you."

Silence. A long, expecting silence that makes me get up, numbness now in both of my legs, as I've been sitting here for what feels like forever. It takes me a minute to actually collect myself, and when I'm done, I slowly and unsure go in, the lighting focusing right on me, immediately making me squint my eyes to see properly, sending a wave of heat to my face.

A table is the first thing I notice. Small and simple, for the prisoner and the visitor to have a conversation over it. Two guards are in the room, one taking care of the door, and the other making sure nobody gets violent.

I look at Nathan, but he's facing the floor. He doesn't remember anything; I know, because when he saw me in the bathroom, he freaked out even more.

Victoria's sitting with her head down, probably not wanting me to see her crying, both hands linked, nervously fiddling with slender fingers, long neck now hidden, looking completely powerless.

Nathan lifts his head up to look straight at me, eye-lids slightly swollen up, dark, deep circles under his eyes, making his once deep blue iris' now looking darker, deadlier.

 _Look at them now._ Once Blackwell's King and Queen, now stripped down from their pride and power, separated, vulnerable and weak. _Just like me._

I know that the guard is staring at me, expecting something weird to happen, because he steps away from the wall, but I slightly shake my head as a sign that everything's alright. _That's exactly what I'm talking about_. We can't talk about stuff like Dark Room or Rachel or anything with them in here, because they could use it against him. And I'm still unsure if they're afraid he might turn aggressive or have an episode. Either is bad and likely.

''Hi," I say quietly, in nearly a whisper, stepping forward, hugging my arm closer to me. His eyes are tired but narrow, curiously and suspiciously following mine.

''What are _you_ doing here?'' He asks, dropping his head down and placing both of his hands on top of his neck, an exhausted exhale coming out of his mouth, ripping my heart into pieces. No happiness, no smile, nothing. _What would I expect, anyway?_ We've had nothing. There wasn't any 'us'.

''Visiting? Have you ever heard that word before?'' I ask, trying to sound laughable, but instead it just comes out as pathetic, cracking voice.

''Yeah, like _you_ give a shit," he says casually, making my eyes blurry from the tears. No anger in his tone. None. Just simply not-caring. Like he doesn't care what will happen to him. He gave up.

I sit down, biting my lip and focusing on anything but him. The silence is killing me, and I know it doesn't help Victoria either, as she's crying her eyes out right now, desperately trying to stop.

I reach out to pat her on the back, but she gets up and leaves in a hurry, leaving only me and Nathan along with the guards and bunch of cameras focusing right on us.

 _I'm not great_. I'm not even his _friend_. Victoria is the one who could actually help him, with the money and influence her family has. And what can _I_ actually offer? Nothing. That's it. _Nothing_. It has no sense, no point in being here.

I get up and turn, knowing I'm not being helpful at all, but his voice stops me.

''Max." He's in pain. How I hate seeing him like that. Because I know that he's been worse, and I haven't been here to help him. _I've never been._

''Yes?'' I turn around again, but the image is too blurry, and when I blink, it becomes clear again just as the tear runs down my cheek.

''Why . . . Why did you come here?'' He asks, smiling, but it's the kind of smile you try to do to stop yourself from crying, and I know that too well. The way his eyebrows are twitching in pain, his expression sorrowful and full of things he'd love to tell someone, but he can't, because he has no one, makes me go back to the table and try to calm my breathing enough to answer him, but it's impossible because both of us are just staring, both in tears and speechless.

I know I have to calm down, so I bite the inside of my cheek so hard it bleeds, the taste of blood making my insides turn, remembering the instant nosebleeds and headaches I had just nearly a week ago, because of my misusage of the powers I've been given to have a chance to let Chloe know that I love her so much and I care about her . . . but now that's she's gone, I have no one. I have nothing.

''Because I . . . " I swallow hardly, reading myself for the biggest sin I will ever commit. "Because I saw that girl threaten you and . . . and I have to help you out, it wasn't your fault that she pulled the trigger on herself."

He stares at me, dumbfounded.

"Tomorrow's trial will go in your favour, you'll see," with that said, I leave, rushing to the toilet. When I get there, I throw up, sobbing uncontrollably.

I must be crazy in his eyes. _Insane_. Talking without sense.

 _I will officially set the murderer of my best friend free ._ . .

 _Chloe, wherever You are . . . Please, please find the strength in yourself to forgive me._

I lean back, wiping my face with a piece of paper.

 _What am I doing? He should serve fucking justice._

But–

I need _someone_. I need him. I have no one else. I already lost my best friend.

" _Ugh_!" I push my head into my knees, curling up into a small ball.

 _I don't know what to do . . ._

 _But I'll figure it out, right?_

 _I'm Max Caulfield. I stopped a giant tornado from wiping out Arcadia Bay. I can figure this out._

I wash my face with cold water, and leave the bathroom to meet Victoria outside.

Raising hand, she clicks her car keys, and with a familiar beep, we both look around to find her car and enter it. None of us feel like talking, but I've had enough of dead silence, so I turn the radio on, switching between the stations to find something relaxing.

''Thanks for taking me with you,'' I say, putting the seat-belt on and pulling my head back to finally close my eyes and exhale with relief. _I need a serious time-ou_ t. A break from _everything_ and _everyone_. _Especially_ school and this place.

''No problem. I need everyone I can get to show Nathan that we care,'' she answers, shifting in the seat and starting the engine. As soon as I called her from the police station, she immediately got here. I was desperate, and asked her to come, because I had no one else to call.

I'm not sure what I expected. Maybe . . . _maybe_ I expected him to remember everything, or _anything_ . . . he had the vision, he _was_ or _still is_ , somehow connected to me and my power, so there must be a chance, just a slight one, that he knows and remembers. If not, then I'm not sure if I can make it without Chloe . . . I just don't think I can . . .

* * *

 **A/N: Guess what? Rewritten.**


	8. Chapter 8 : Free

Chapter VIII _, Free._

* * *

I can see the tips of my pointed flats that are the only pair of elegant shoes I have. I can smell faint wood polisher that tickles my nose, but doesn't make me sneeze. My head is aching and someone at the back row is coughing, but apart from it, there is no other sound at all in the big hall. Everyone is looking at me, either piercing my back or searching my face for any trace of doubt or guilt.

"Miss Caulfield?" The female voice echoes through the space, making sure she meets everyone's listening ear. The woman in her mid-forties is a serious and strict looking Judge, whom will be giving a verdict on Nathan Prescott's case.

"Sorry," I say, looking up, maitaining the eye contact to show her respect. Then I remember what Victoria told me about correctly addresing the Judge. "Your Honor . . . " I add quickly enough, biting the inside of my cheek. _No more mistakes, Caulfield_.

"Let's start from the beginning, please," woman says, however her strict tone relaxes, making me relieved a bit. _You're not a criminal, Max. You have no reason to be afraid._

 _Well, that's a bullshit. What I am doing right now, is so wrong on so many levels . . ._

I have pledged full honesty, and what I'm about to say is _definitely_ not going to be it. _If it won't work, I might get in serious trouble_ , just because I wanted to get Nathan out of there. I know he should get justice, that he's a murderer . . . _but aren't we all, and I especially?_ After all, I've killed so many people by causing the tornado in the other timeline . . .

It _has_ to work. Victoria've taken care of the lawyers, she even taught me how to act in the Court. She was so thrilled when I told her I'll help. She haven't asked me what I'm going to say, or if what I'm going to say is even true. She simply went along with it, hoping my words will get her best friend out of the 'horrible place' called _jail_.

I can see Nathan out of the corner of my eye, but it's impossible to make out his expression. I think Victoria is sitting in the very first row behind me, but I'm not sure. Nathan's father didn't come at all. Victoria told me he didn't contact his son for the past whole week. It's understandable that Sean Prescott doesn't want to ruin his reputation by getting engaged with his son's actual position. _Especially now_ that he got Mark Jefferson in trouble as well.

"If I understand correctly," the woman begins. "You have been in the restroom the very moment Chloe Price has been shot dead by her own hands with intentions on suicide?"

"Yes, your Honor," I answer, trying to make myself sound believable. Fortunately, I've come up with a story yesterday, assuring that every detail of it will fit with the whole piece. Thank God that Joyce and David couldn't make it, because I'm not sure I would do it with them hearing the dirty lies I'm about to tell. Joyce got very sick and depressed after Chloe's death. When I visited them, she couldn't even get up from bed; and David wouldn't leave her all by herself.

"And why were you there in the first place?" She continues, her voice calm and expecting.

I glance at the boy who's now looking straight at me with asking eyes. "I needed to wash my face, my Honour," I make an eye contact with the Judge again.

"Can you run us through everything that you saw whilst being there?"

"A butterfly flew in through the window, and landed in the corner, where I wasn't seen by Chloe as she had entered the bathroom," I stop to swallow hardly. "I didn't leave the cover because she was talking to herself about how she needs to cool down because everything will be alright, and I thought that if I leave, she will be embarrassed that I heard her."

"And that's when Mr Prescott has entered the restroom?"

"Yes, he seemed nervous and said that only because they partied once or twice, it doesn't mean they are buddies now, and asked her what she wants. Then, uh . . . "

"Do you need to take a break, Miss Caulfield?"

"No, thank you, your Honour. I've just lost my childhood friend, and it's hard for me to talk about it . . . But as I was saying, Chloe started getting violent, shouting that she needs money to pay off her drug dealer, _er_ , I think she called him Fran– _Francis_? Nathan said he can't help her. Then . . . then she pulled a gun out . . . And said if he won't give her the money, she'll shoot him. Then she shouted even more, saying how hard it was on her when her dad died and her friend Rachel disappeared and then she got into her drug habit . . . So she . . . so she shot herself right in front of him," I finished, in tears.

"It's _not_ true," I hear a voice behind me. It's . . . It's _Joyce_!

"Joyce?" I ask, surprised.

"Why would you protect him, Max?" She shouts. "Why would you protect the son of a bitch that's killed my poor little girl?" Her sobbing makes my mouth tremble. "You were her best friend!"

"Joyce, I'm–"

"Are you being dishonest, Miss Caulfield?" The Judge asks, staring at me harshly.

I hear whispers and words of disapproval all around me.

"No! Of course I'm not!"

"Max!" Nathan raises his voice. "It's okay. It's over. They know. They know that I'm a murderer." He looks at me with a smile. "They know that I am a murderer, and they know that I will kill again."

I back away, but I bump into somebody.

"Going somewhere?" Chloe asks, clearly annoyed.

"Chloe?!"

"Who else, you _moron_?" She pushes me. "Did you think you'll get away with this? Did you think you'll just lie your way through this without any consequences?!"

"Max?" Victoria's voice rings through my head, but she isn't seen anywhere.

" _Maaaax_?" She repeats.

Suddenly, I'm sitting on a chair in a police station's waiting room, with Victoria next to me.

"Gosh, you're sweating like a pig," she notices, looking at me disapprovingly. "Did you zone out again? I swear you are like, high off your ass most of the time."

I try to calm my breathing down, laying back and sinking into the chair.

 _My guilt has been eating me away. Those . . ._ dreams _have been with me for over a week now._

That's why for the past few days I haven't slept properly. I'm living on coffee and concealer, hoping my dark circles don't show too much. But nobody's noticed because we're all busy getting ready for tests.

 _And_ , I haven't been table to touch my camera. I guess it saved me a hella lot of money and I've been able to save up on something extra, but it also _drained the life out of me_. _Don't you just hate it when you're a walking camera, and everything you look at is something worth a shot, but you're unable to take a picture of it?_

Like three days ago, somebody forgot to close the dorm doors and a squirrel came into our bathroom while Victoria was taking a shower and it crawled into her bag. You can just imagine what happened when she found out a 'rat' sitting in her bag. The image was hilarious when the poor thing tried to escape and Victoria climbed on top of the bench, screaming and jumping up and down. This picture would definitely find its existence in my portfolio, but I couldn't make myself reach for the camera. I even stopped carrying it around with me. It's in my drawer, probably covered in layers of dust by now.

The thing is, I've got this _trauma;_ I'm scared the camera will trap me inside of it . . . and thoughts of the Dark Room still sit fresh in my mind.

My memorial wall does no longer exist and every photography lesson with the new teacher is a horror to me, _and_ Victoria. She absolutely _hates_ our new mentor and doesn't hide with it.

"That can't be right . . . " The girl clicks her tongue, pen in hand, impatiently tapping it against her knee. At the same time, I'm biting my lip, embarrassingly turning my eyes from the messy writing resting in black pen in the science notebook.

It's been a long week; with the trials, statements, fake stories . . . But at last, _we won_ , and they are releasing Nathan today.

Victoria has been very helpful, - worried and miserable, but helpful and pretending everything's alright. But she's been strong and I've been too. _At least I hope I was._

"I can see the improvement, at least," the blonde looks up, smiling, and I shyly smile back. I know I could of asked Warren for help but since the whole thing with Nathan I've been closer to Vic than ever before. And without Chloe, there is not many people I would give my trust to. Besides, she's been easier to hang out with since the Vortex Club has been X-outed and she stopped being such a beeach to everyone around her.

The lawyer she's hired backed my words a lot, I wouldn't of done it without him and I'm pretty sure he is indeed the best lawyer in state. _What's been happening to Nathan_? I have no idea. They say they needed more time to deal with the matter, and I'm beginning to have doubts of my guilt-erasing statement, but even so, he finally will be free in a matter of hours.

"I can't believe this . . . " She says quietly, and I freeze. We haven't been talking much about it. I guess we both avoided the topic as long as we could.

"I know, science can be pretty brainwashing."

She rolls her eyes, slightly smiling. "That's not what I'm talking about, Sad Face."

"You don't look any better, _Happy Face."_

" _Excuse me_? This foundation costed more than half of whatever you're owning." _How charming._

"Jokes aside," she says. "Look at who showed up here," she gestures the door with her head, and I follow with my eyes.

" _Warren_?" I ask, surprised, getting up from the chair. " . . . _And_ Brooke?"

And right behind them . . .

"Victoria!" Taylor and Courtney wave their hands at the blonde.

"All done," she settles the notebook onto the chair and gracefully gets up, getting rid of the imagined dust on her clothes. "Where's my–" Before she gets to finish, Courtney already hands the coffee into her hands. The blonde responds with a satisfied smile.

"Yo yo Maximus!" He walks up to me, and as soon as he notices my homework scattered all around, he raises an eyebrow and theatrically places a hand on his chest, shocked. "So now the _queen bee_ is helping you with _homework_."

"Oh please," I roll my eyes. "You were busy and I _really_ needed it done."

"I'm never too busy for you."

I shyly smile, looking at my hands. That thought leaves a warm feeling inside me.

Brooke clears her throat, annoyed.

"Hey, Brooke," I say, waving at her without bothering to lift my hand up. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Victoria's minions were more than happy to give us a ride . . . which is suspicious on so many levels when you think 'bout it now," he answers. "But, I wanted to see how you're holding up since . . . "

Warren's been good to me. He's been to the funeral with me, even though he theoretically didn't know that blue haired punk.

He notices my expression. "C'mere," his shoulder embraces me.

I don't really feel like talking about my dead best friend, so I change the subject. "You know when you said something about going APE?"

"Hm, can't remember anything of the sort," he teases and I laugh quietly.

"Shame, then. I thought about going, but if you're not interested . . . "

"Hey, I never said that!"

After agreeing on going tomorrow, (apparently Warren has booked the tickets already with an intention on asking me out,) we say goodbyes to each other and he leaves.

I decided on getting some coffee from the vending machine, so when I stand hopelessly around, waiting for the cup to fill itself with the brown liquid, a door next to me suddenly opens, and Nathan walks out with a policeman who pats him on the back and exchanges a couple of words with him.

He instantly notices me, and soon enough drags me away into a secluded hallway.

I look at him happily. "It's good to s–"

"Cut the crap out," he whispers angrily. "What the hell?! Did my father – or Vic or _whoever_ hire you? _Who are you working for_?"

I furrow my eyebrows. "No one, Nathan, I–"

" _How much_ did they pay you?" He persists.

" _Listen_ to me!" I raise my voice, reaching for his hands.

He stares at me, mixed surprise and shock clearly visible in his eyes.

His hands are ice cold, and soon enough, he moves them away from me.

"What's taking you so long–" Victoria rounds the corner, and freezes once seeing Nathan. She immediately runs into his embrace, and he squeezes her back.

I bite my lip. _At least_ she _got a warming reunion._

* * *

The journey was long, but it was _totally worth it_. I have forgotten all about my troubles and spending time with Warren is _incredible_. It reminded me of Chloe, but I've managed to quickly brush that thought away.

It has taken us hours to get to the movies and another ages to come back, but we both didn't seem to mind. The opposite, it has gotten us closer than ever, and for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me.

 _Kiss_. How I miss that feeling when a pair of strong lips rested on mines.

When we sneak into the girls' dorms, it's late after curfew but in some rooms, light is still visible from under the doors.

After Chloe's death, the security has increased and to Ms. Grand's disapproval, the cameras will be installed shortly, so I guess no more sneaking in. _Dana must be furious._

As we go into my room and I'm about to say how much fun I had, Warren kisses me and quickly enough steps back, embarrassed. I am shocked but it's not like I haven't expected it.

With my thinking turned off, I gently kiss him back. He looks me in the eyes, asking for my approval, and when he finds it, he kisses me once more, and then another time and another . . .

His kisses aren't as experienced as Nathan's, but my lips seem to know how to work their ways and soon enough he's becoming more brave with his hands.

But as we move to the bed, his courage drains from him, and he stops, looking at me wildly.

"A-are you sure you want this?" He asks, and I stare at him back.

 _I don't!_

 _What am I doing?!_

" _Um_ ," I slowly get up, putting hair behind my ear. "No, I– I don't think I'm ready yet, Warren. I'm sorry . . . You are a great kisser though."

He looks taken aback, but quickly regains from it. "Y-yeah, you know it."

* * *

Today, I've been to visit Chloe. The more I stayed, the harder it was to leave. I brought flowers, blue ones, just like her hair. It felt weird, like she was there next to me. Maybe she was, telling me about her life wherever she was.

I also checked up on Joyce, she was slowly getting better, comparing to David, who considered joining the police as soon as his wife was to regain her health.

Looking around Chloe's room has made me nostalgic. Joyce couldn't make herself move anything around, so it was messy as usual.

In the late afternoon I decided to come back to my dorm, where a surprise awaited me.

* * *

 **A/N: Surprise, surprise. Rewritten.**


	9. Chapter 9 : Caulscott 2dot0

Chapter IX _, Caulscott 2.0_

* * *

His breathing is calm and even, thinking expression glued to the tired face, giving out the impression of being deeply lost in the tiresome thoughts, his eyebrow furrowing with frustration once in a while, hand cupped over the mouth slightly twitching, probably due to the nervousness of the boy. He looks rough up close, cracked, sore lips, dark, deep circles under his eyes, hair a mess, but the jaw still sharp and strong, showing off his eternal Prescott pride.

The signature orange jacket surprisingly has been replaced by a black hoodie perfectly masking his drastic change of weight that only could be now seen in the skinny neck. I wonder if the orange hue is reminding him of the dirty suits he almost ended up wearing along with the other prisoners. I also have to admit missing the calm blue, that stood out together with his once deep ocean-like eyes; now they seem darker, dimmer, life long drained from them just like his passion and love.

On his cheek rests an undoubtedly fresh, slightly blooding bruise becoming a shade of violet, the aggressive color stands out on his pale skin that once used to have darker appearance. The probability of him earning it by offending some big bloke during his time at sitting in a temporary cell is higher than the thought of him getting into a fight. A scared, little cub wouldn't dare to show his defiance while on unknown territory that belongs to somebody else. I'm eager to ask what he's done.

"How . . . " I begin, but as soon as his confused and lost eyes find my face, the words won't budge out. " . . . do you like this place?" The original question sounded more brutal but I've kept it for myself. No need to make him anxious, especially not now.

"'Tis alright I'spose," he murmurs, glancing blankly through the window again, hand covering mouth like a shield, letting me know he's not up to chit-chatting. His eyes haven't even looked around once.

The atmosphere between us is certainly uneasy, and the restaurant's cherish music doesn't seem to be helping at all. The decorations here are quite fancy, same as the smell of the scented candles resting on each table. Curious of the sweetly smell, I pick it up to get a better sense of what it's made of. _Cinnamon_ , spicy aroma tickles my nose.

As it returns to its rightful place, I breathe out, eyes following the way Victoria went off to freshen up. In truth, I'm sure she's gotten emotional and had to fix her make-up. Speaking of the devil, she's taken us to the nearest restaurant to have a ' _proper meal_ '. I suggested Two Whales at first, but she just gave me a funny look, saying what a _cheap peasant_ I am.

I can tell Nathan lingers for sleep, it's been only an hour since he has appeared in my room. We didn't say anything to each other apart from a quiet 'hi', and Victoria didn't push us, she was too happy to care about anything else than her best friend, and thus invited ( _forced_ ) us out to eat together. I'm _pretty sure_ we would be _just fine_ by staying in and eating instant noodles instead, but she _insisted_.

I _honestly_ thought that I gave up on Nathan and began a relationship with someone closest to me, because I needed it, and I needed to accept the fact that he was gone and Warren wasn't. But looking at him just reminded me of how _wrong_ I am.

A male waiter comes by to give us menus just as Victoria appears in my sight and settles herself down next to Nathan. They'd look like a young, snobby couple if only the boy wasn't so down-looking. _I feel like a third wheel already._

"We _have_ to celebrate. Give us the best champagne you have, _please,_ " she says and the waiter nods, walking off. The blonde smiles, opening up the menu. I've never seen her happier before. She even said _please_. To a _waiter_. _Stranger_. _'Lower class.'_ I mean, _come on_ , has anyone ever heard her say it in her life? Doubt it. "It's all on me so order up." _How generous of you, but who are you and what have you done to the real Victoria Chase that I know?_

She decides to have the Oregon Fall Salad and I'm going along with Guam-Style Chicken Salad. Nathan doesn't want anything but Vic persuades him into something with a huge amount of calories to get him back into shape.

My phone's buzzing but I choose to ignore it, knowing it's Warren.

It's mostly Victoria who speaks, but it happens for me to add a little comment in. Nathan's not chatty either and answers with either a nod or a simple yes or no.

After the dessert and a bit too much of a champagne, Victoria becomes slightly drunk and Nathan has to drive us home.

"Fancy a walk?" He asks as soon as the blonde makes her way towards the dormitory, leaving the two of us on the parking lot alone. The word 'fancy' sounds incredibly hot coming out his mouth, just as anything else does.

Wait, _wait . . . hold up_.

 _You stop that, Max Caulfield_.

We slowly walk in the campus' direction, cold air reminding me that the winter is coming. But before that, Halloween, which comes in _five days._ Victoria didn't have time to plan anything, which is a surprise since the Queen likes to be always the one in control of everything, but I'm sure Courtney and Taylor were instructed to make it work. Since there's no longer Vortex Club, all parties have been moved to the bar nearby called _Blué_. And _yes_ , Victoria _insists_ on pronouncing the 'é' the ' _right way_.'

"I appreciate what you've done," Nathan says, not looking directly at me. "And I'm sorry for being an asshole back at the station. I– I had no fucking idea what was going on."

I remain silent.

"I'll make everything worth it. I want to _finally_ prove myself," he adds, honesty in his shaking voice.

 _You already did._

Image of his body covering mine and taking Jefferson's bullet himself flashes in front of my eyes, all horrible memories rapidly rushing back to me.

"I _know_ you'll never forgive me, but . . . you have to know that _I'm sorry_."

I look in the opposite direction to make a cold impression. "Sorry won't fix anything," I say. _It won't bring Chloe back to life._

"I know. _Nothing_ will _ever_ fix what I've done." He takes a pause. "But you gave me the chance to change. _Why_?" He suddenly stops, so I turn to face him. He looks troubled.

I decide to give him an honest answer. "Because you deserve it."

" _Bullshit_ , you know and _saw_ what I've done . . . That pun– _poor_ girl died because of me–"

I cut him off before he finishes. No need for him to repeat it. "It was _an accident_. Stop questioning the opportunity I gave you and just take it." I begin walking again and he quickly comes into my way, stopping me.

He's visibly frustrated. "I don't understand!" _Maybe it's better that way._

" _And you don't have to_ ," I assure him calmly.

He's thinking for a long minute, then opens his mouth again. "You want money? Is that it? _How much_ you wanna?"

I feel touched in a hurtful way. _Why would he think that I'm doing it for_ money _?_ "You owe me nothing," I spit out offended, maneuvering my way past him.

''I'm _so fucking confused_ – How did you know about Mark and– _and_ Rachel and everything?''

I stop, taking a deep breath.

''Nathan–'' Before I begin to explain, I notice Warren sitting on the stairs to the entrance of dormitory and I think, _shit_ , as I pull Nathan back and he bumps into me.

"Nathan," I repeat.

"I like the way you say it."

"What?" I stare at him, having no idea what he's talking about.

"My name. Like you _know_ know me. Kinda offending coming out of a nerd's mouth," he raises his head, visibly amused.

"I am refusing to be called a nerd by _you,_ " I cross my arms, sending him a daring stare.

"By _me?_ " He quietly laughs. "So you're sayin' that you're better than me?"

"Not better, just . . . it's weird to be called a _nerd_ by someone with 4.0 GPA." I make a smart remark, proudly smirking.

"Guess it won't be that high after I'll come back without my daddy's precious money," he answers bitterly and I shrug.

"It's called having a life without rich parents, and you're going to _love it._ "

"Oh _yes_ , can't _wait_ to do my homework, I'm _so_ excited!" He fakes an eccentric reaction and I pretend to roll my eyes.

"You know, you can always get a job," I propose; his expression is priceless. "You know, a place where you earn money . . . does that ring a bell?"

"Psh, who needs a job when you've got a face like this and all the ladies are after you?" He continues to walk and I follow him, forgetting about Warren waiting for me.

"Well, you can always become a gold-digger, right? It's always some sort of a solution, and maybe one day they'll even do a documentary about you," I tease.

"Finally you're talking business."

"Max?!" I hear Warren's voice, so I turn to look at him.

"Your lover boy comes," Nathan comments bitterly, breaking the little moment we were having, and I'm angry because he's wasted my great opportunity to say what I had to say.

I choose to ignore his remark. "Good luck with the gold hunting." I turn to go, ready to greet Warren.

"Caulfield," His voice is serious but polite enough for me to slowly glance at him. "I'm here for you if you need me."

My heart slows down. Everything around me freezes, and for a moment I think I've stopped the time, but then, suddenly, Warren's arms embrace my body, pulling me out of my trance.

"I've been dead worried about you, why haven't you answered your phone?" He asks, but I cannot give him the answer; my throat is too tight to let any sound out.

Nathan still holds my gaze, but quickly enough notices the way Warren holds me, offering protection, and assumes that his help is not needed at all.

"Max," he nods his head as a goodbye without looking and walks off, leaving me. _Don't. Come back. Please, come back, don't leave me again . . ._

"Was that . . . Nathan?" The boy asks confusingly, slowly releasing me, observing my face for any trace of being upset whatsoever.

My heart aches. _Why did he say that? It was the very first promise I gave him . . ._

* * *

The buzzing of my phone wakes me up, but my still half-asleep brain can't tell where the sound is coming from.

 _Down? No, left, right next to my ear._ I reach for it, but it's quiet again. A message.

I turn slowly to my right, the boy laying next to me slightly shifts but doesn't wake up. I turn my head again. The text is from unknown number, but I remember these digits way too good to have a doubt who it's from.

I decide to save his number, delaying opening the message that could have everything within.

 **From: Nathan**

 **txt me if u need anything im serious bout what i was saying earlier. sorry for waking u up.**

 **n**

 **Sunday, 1:32 a.m**.

I bite my lip, the screen's light irritating my eyes. I can hear the laptop in the background, so I quietly get up to turn it off. Me and Warren were watching some series that I now can't remember a thing of.

I fight with myself for a moment before typing an answer.

 **To: Nathan**

 **No worries. Aren't you sleeping? No need to be looking like a zombie in the morning.**

 _No, that's silly_ , I delete that.

 **To: Nathan**

 **No worries. You're still up?**

 **I appreciate your concerns, and I'm glad that you care.**

Delete.

 **Thanks, but I don't need anything at the moment, do you?**

No, go back.

 **I know, and I'm here for you too.**

 _Can I really_ not _send a simple message?_

After another ten minutes of struggle, I decide not to answer at all and simply go back to bed, but I can't seem to be able to close my eyes with Warren's deep breathing besides me.

Instead, I end up getting up again and throwing my signature grey jacket on me along with putting random trainers on. My stupidity amuses me as I knock silently on his door.

"Max?" He's shocked to see me, but is clever enough to try to hide it.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm here," I turn around, embarrassed, but he gently grasps my shoulder. _I feel like an idiot._

"Wait," he says.

"I think I felt bad because I know you can't fall asleep but are exhausted," his eyes widen and I instantly regret my words.

"How–"

"Er– _Intuition_ ," I smile, crossing my arms, realising I'm wearing my pj's and that I must look ridiculous.

"Urm, since you're here, wanna come in?" He unsurely holds the door open and steps back, allowing me to enter.

I've been here before and it's just as it was, his pc running, lights out, cold temperature making me shiver, his headphones out, suggesting he's been listening to the whale songs recently. Which means _he's not okay at all._

I turn and just now notice he's only in his boxers, so I look away, pretending to be interested in his collection of films. _Don't look._

"I– I have to re-organise this gloomy look, throw some stuff out," he says, gesturing with his hand at nothing in particular.

"It is a little dim," I agree, hugging my arm closer. "But I guess it reflects your personality."

"That's why I want to change it,'' he answers. I turn to see him frowning, but it's hard to tell what he's thinkimg due to the darkness and only his computer giving any lights off. He's also put some clothes on, so I can maintain an eye-contact with him without any temptation to trail off for a quick glance down.

"Have you still got your medications?" I ask softly, causing him to scratch his neck uncomfortably.

"Uh, how did you know about that?''

 _He's not jumping to my throat yet. I see a progress._

"Victoria told me," I lie. "Are you still taking it?"

"No, it's all a bullshit. _No daddy, I won't take your pills,_ fuck you," he spits out and I raise my eyebrow. "Besides, I don't need them."

I clear my throat, sitting down. "We both know that you do."

He bites his lip, something he's never done before, and crosses his arms, one hand on his chin, thinking. "'Toria arranged some shitty therapy sessions. How fucking embarrassing,'' he presses his back against the desk, slightly leaning backwards.

The faint light illuminates his handsomeness and the hue of his tired eyes. _Weird_. Even though he feels nothing towards me and there's no future for us, _I'm still into him._

" _What?_ " He notices me staring, but I don't try to cover up the fact that he's pleasurable to look at.

"What?" I ask back innocently, smiling.

"What you mean _what?_ " He furrows his eyebrows. "You're obviously checking the shit out of me."

"I am not!" I say almost instantly, embarrassed, but then I remember why I came here and I add, "Or am I?" in a decently flirtatious tone.

"Why did you come here, Max?" He asks quietly, leaning over, both hands grabbing the sides of the chair, making it impossible for me to stand up now. "To _woo_ me?"

He's so close, _I want to kiss him_. _Do you think he'll mind if I'll rewind afterwards? . .._ "That was my side quest, but I'll consider it being the main one," such a geeky thing to say. _Way to go, Max._

He chuckles and draws back. "You are _kinda_ hilarious."

 _No. C'mere back_. I lift my right hand up, but he grasps it and pulls me up with such force I lose my balance and fall right into him. He looks into my eyes, but instead of fear, there's pure excitement.

My chest tightens, every muscle in my body tensing. _Are we thinking about the same thing?_

Our bodies are touching and thinking about it makes me feel embarrassed, my breasts against his muscular chest, both our hearts beating fast, making it possible for us to feel them with their each thump . . . it's more intimate than threatening, and if I move just an inch . . . I'll meet his lips, and I know he'll give me something more than I could've ever wished for.

I feel the hair raise on the back of my neck, but I'm unable to tell whether it's the temperature or the boy's tight grip and warm breath on my face.

"No more shitting around, Caulfield," his tone is cold and distant, and I wonder if it was something I said. ''Tell me what you want from me,'' he demands. "You know things no one else does. You stuff your big nosey nose where you shouldn't, and then magically come to my rescue. One word from you and _boom_ , I'm free. Who the fuck are you, huh? _What do you want_? If it's not money you're after, is it fame, my father's influence? Well, bad luck because my father doesn't give a rat's ass about me anymore, so you're a bit too fucking late with that.''

 _I can't freaking believe him._

I shoot him a furious stare, but he quickly enough takes my face into his hand. ''Or maybe it's something else, huh? Maybe you have a _crush_ on me? Why else would you go through all of this shit just for me? You aren't even my friend and we haven't spoken more than one or two sentences to each other at school before. Why would you lie about your best friend for someone like me, Max?'' His eyebrows bend into a sad shape.

''One day,'' I start, ''I'll be able to give you the answer that you need. But for now, I think it will be the best if we go seperate ways.''

''I– I understand.''

* * *

 **A/N: Of course it's also rewritten.**


	10. Chapter 10 : The Connection

Chapter X _, The Connection._

* * *

I wake up with a terrible headache due to the lack of sleep as the alarm in my phone activates, and I automatically cover my head with a pillow, letting out a tired sigh.

After a minute or so, the sound is becoming incredibly irritating, making me reach out to turn it off, slowly and lazily getting up, rubbing my stinging eyes.

I haven't slept good without Warren at my side, the nightmares are getting worse - now Nathan is the main villain in the Dark Room, taking pictures of Rachel and it makes me sick that my brain can even create such a dreadful image.

But speaking of Nathan, I haven't seen him since yesterday, Victoria said he's got a therapy session but I couldn't care less because I am so angry at him, and without a solid apology, I won't even look at him. _Don't get me wrong, I said we will go into seperate ways, but he still really hurt me, after everything I went through to get him out of the jail, he throws accusations onto me like it's nothing._

But it's Monday, and I guess I'll have to face him at one point or another.

But more importantly, I gotta hit a shower, and after twenty minutes I'm back to my room, changing into fresh clothes. It's cold outside, so I decide to wear a white, comfy jumper and as I'm drying my hair, I notice that somebody called me when I was showering.

 **3 calls missed from Nathan.**

 _Now, what could he possibly want from me?_

 **1 new message.**

 **From: Nathan**

 **call me asap**

 **Monday, 9:35 a.m.**

 _You wish I would._

When I'm all ready, I make my way to school, entering the classroom just as the bell goes off.

Taking my place, I mouth a silent _hi_ to Victoria who's sending me a nervous smile across the classroom. I slowly turn to look right, my eyes scanning the empty seat behind the blonde, but she just shrugs and checks her phone.

Fifteen minutes into the lesson, and the door suddenly opens. And naturally, everyone goes quiet as Nathan unsurely enters, frowning his eyebrows.

"How _nicely_ of you to finally join us, Mr . . . ?" The teacher stands up, crossing her arms. Nathan looks at her confusingly, _and I get his confusion_. We have a new English teacher, Miss Clark, _thanks to him,_ because Mrs. Hoida was forced to leave, again, _because of him._

"Prescott, _remember that name_ ," he says casually, hands in pockets, lowering his head as the whispering begin. The woman doesn't seem to be impressed whatsoever with his heritage. _That's_ _the first._

"Did you know he shot a girl in the bathroom?" Someone next to me says and I immediately stare at them deadly.

"I heard he's a psycho," another voice answers, and I lose my temper.

"Shut up," I hiss in their direction, loud enough for the whole class to hear, and they stare, this time at me, like I'm some sort of a crazy person.

"I hope you won't make a habit out of it," Miss Clarke looks at him. "You've missed out a lot, so I'd like to have a word with you at the end of the lesson. For now, take a seat," and she goes back to her lecture, while Nathan walks past me, making sure he gives me a mean stare first, but I choose to ignore it, boldly looking away.

I guess he's too tired to have it out with the teacher, which is a surprise. He also doesn't take his phone out, as I notice with the corner of my eye. Did Principal Wells warn him that now, when he doesn't have his daddy's support, he can kick him out of this school easily?

"I thought I told you to call me,'' he whispers sharply in my direction, leaning in closer, and _I can just feel Victoria's stare on me._

"You're right. You did,'' I whisper calmly back, taking notes off the board. He taps his fingers on the desk, probably killing me with the furious stare.

A minute or so goes by and he speaks again.

"You're mad 'cause I yelled at you in my room?" His amused grin causes me to breathe out patiently.

"I didn't know that you two are, like, _already getting there_ ," Victoria turns around to look at him, but the smile is long gone from his face. "Next, you gonna–"

"Victoria?" Miss Clark calls her name, which makes the girl slowly turn around and look at the woman sassily. "Please listen, I promise it's not that boring."

The lesson carries on with no more attempts from Nathan to talk to me, and as the bell rings, I quickly pack my things and exit the classroom, the boy running after me, but the teacher stops him and keeps him in.

I send him a playful smile as I walk off to another period, which I don't have with him.

At lunch I head to the cafeteria, knowing there's no point going to the Two Whales all by myself.

I grab an apple, muffin and a bottle of water, not having much of an appetite and I sit down next to Dana and Juliet, who invited me over. The school is louder than usual, one side talking about Halloween and the other about Nathan Prescott's return.

After a long chat about upcoming Halloween party and a finished lunch, I get up and I'm cornered by Nathan in the hallway. Unfortunately, there's no trace of Victoria around to help me out.

"Let's _talk_ ," he says calmly, griping my arm tightly and moving forward, towards the exit.

"We never talk, _talk_ in your eyes is just you threatening and yelling at me," I free myself from him as we stop on the stairs.

"I'm sorry, okay? How many times will I have to repeat that stupid ass word? So-rry. Got it? Want me to repeat it? So–''

"Please,'' I roll my eyes.

"Don't press it, Caulfield," he stares at me and his gaze softens.

"What you wanna _talk_ about?" I ask curiously, and he begins walking.

"Not here," he says as he notices few students staring at us, eager to gossip. _If the word of me and Nathan Prescott hanging out reaches Warren, or Kate or . . . or anybody–_

"Before that, you have to do something for me," I say, freezing in place.

He looks taken aback. "What is it?"

* * *

"Hey, Max," A familiar voice greets me as I look up to find Kate, smiling at me.

"Hey, Kate. You seem really happy today," I notice, getting up from my seat. The school's finally over and I have to meet up with Nathan.

"You won't believe what happened today,'' she says, excited and eager to tell me all about it. I smile kindly, waiting patiently. "Nathan Prescott came up to me earlier today and apologised, and Max, I could tell he was being honest, and he asked me for forgiveness."

"That's good, Kate. Did you forgive him?"

"Yes. He was very glad to hear that." A smile is glued to her face, and it's the most beautiful sight ever. "First Victoria, then Nathan . . . Ah, Max, do you think they've changed?"

I hesitate for a second. "Yes, Kate. I think they did."

* * *

Warren waits for me near the exit, and as soon as he sees me, a big grin appears on his cheerful face.

"Yo, Max! Wanna hang out?"

"Maybe later. You know how much I hate Mondays," I say tiredly, giving him a small smile. Besides, Nathan wanted to talk to me, and it _did_ seem urgent. He also did what I've asked him to do, and now it's _my_ turn to hear _him_ out.

"Oh come on, Maxie, we'll make it fun,'' he places his shoulder on me and I exhale, defeated.

I hesitate. "Alright, Warren. What you want to do today?" And like magic, his expression completely changes.

We decide to go to the park, and when he's not looking, I send Nathan a short text.

 **To: Nathan**

 **I need to take care of something**. **I'll text you when I'm free.**

* * *

It's already dark and definitely late, too late to text Nathan - he didn't text me back anyway, so I guess it can wait a little bit longer.

There's no light in the hallway, but I can hear giggles in Dana's room, suggesting Trevor is visiting her again. This thought makes me smile and I walk forward without paying much attention, recalling today's funny date with Warren and–

 _Shit!_

I trip because of some invisible object and I fall with a loud bang, nearly smashing my nose against the floor.

" _What the fu_ –" The mysterious thing speaks, and I'm angry as I sit up and see a movement in the shadows, _a person_ , a good known to me person.

"What are you doing here?!" I ask furiously in a whisper, getting up and looking for my keys.

"Waiting for you,'' he whispers back and stands up, but I can't see him very well, so I open the door to my room and go in, putting the lights on to have a proper argument.

He comes in and closes the door, slowly glancing upon me.

"Why–" I begin, but his look is defeating. "Never mind,'' I shake my head, crossing arms.

"I think I fell asleep,'' he stretches his arms out.

"Under my door. Nearly giving me a heart attack. _What the fuck_."

"It wasn't intended, chill out."

"Ugh, whatever, I'm tired, make it quick," I barely stop myself from yawning as I say it.

He looks around, his eyes locked onto the empty wall once my photo memorial wall rested on.

"Didn't you have bunch of pictures hanging here?" He weakly points, intensively thinking, but gives up after a second. "Never mind."

"Since when have you been in my room before?" I raise one eyebrow, observing him warily.

" _That'sssss_ what I wanna talk about,'' he steps closer to me, reaching for my hands. I move away, surprised, but he doesn't let go.

"What are you–"

"So _fucking_ weird,'' he whispers, his cold fingers linking with mines, and I stare, wanting explanations but he won't even look at me. "Don't you feel it too?" He finally looks up at me, a serious expression on his face.

I answer jokingly, but freaked out at the same time. "If this is your way of confessing your love to me, then–"

He releases me, furrowing eyebrows. "Never mind."

"I was joking," I take his hands, looking into his eyes.

He looks uncertain. "It's crazy, you won't believe me."

"Tell me and we'll see."

He takes a moment, then clears his throat. "Max, I . . . see _weird shit_ , stuff that I shouldn't. And I had this dream . . . it felt so fucking real yet I know it didn't happen. You were there and we were . . . _fuck_ , I don't know. But you seem to know shit, and I was hoping that you'd explain it . . . "

I don't dare to breath.

"Maybe I'm crazy,'' he shrugs. "Yeah, I probably am,'' he chuckles without humour, and I release the grip, ridiculous thoughts appearing in my head. "You look pale, you alright?" He asks, looking at me, and I move myself to the sofa, where I sit down, weakly tapping the seat as an invitation.

"Don't tell me . . . you have those dreams too?" He asks slowly, settling himself next to me.

 _This is what I wanted, isn't it?_ He remembers . . . or at least begins to, _I think._

I turn to him. "What's the deal with your dreams?" I ask.

"I don't know if they're _dreams,_ " he sighs, looking blankly at nothing in particular. "You'll think I'm a right creep but we were dating and you had this power to rewind time and you were in the Dark Room, then I died," he's running hands through his hair, thinking. A lock of rebellious, sandy hair drops on his face and I can't help but push it back. He looks up, his eyes filled with a look I've never seen before.

"I don't remember the exact details, everything is kinda blurry, you know? I guess it's because you rewound the whole week and–''

I move closer, slowly embracing him. His body slightly tenses, but relaxes after a bit. _I missed his warmth._

"When you touch me, it's like, _kinda_ somehow clearer,'' he says, his hand now touching mine, and I close my eyes.

"You're not crazy," I say, his familiar scent meeting my nostrils.

"So, all of it is true?"

"Yeah. Your birthday's on August 29th," I say proudly, and he chuckles.

"'Holy shit, you can teleport too?'"

He remembers.

He _really_ does.

I try to contain my happiness to ask him a question. "But you also said something about seeing _stuff_ . . . what do you mean?"

"I can . . . _see_. Past, future of random people I look at. It just happens, and I can't help it. That's how I knew about the storm, but now it's not coming and I . ." he stops. "I think . . . that I can see and sense you rewind."

I freeze. "I . . . um, don't do that anymore," I say as I finally take my arms off him, giving him some space. "But . . . are you sure?"

He nods. "I'm not sure where it started. Around the period of hanging out with you, I guess."

I furrow my eyebrow. "This is cool. You can like, tell me if I'm going to get good grades," I try to cheer him up, but he only grimaces.

"Yes, and I can also tell if someone's gonna die from a car accident or whatever, and I can't do shit about it. Wonderful, isn't it?" He asks sarcastically, and I get it that it's hard on him.

"I'm sorry," I say softly, rubbing his arm. "Now we're both official freaks," I smile weakly at the thought. "You can tell me if something's bad going to happen, and I can prevent it from happening," I suggest, but after a long thought, maybe messing with fate isn't the best idea after everything that's happened.

He looks at me. "We both know how's that gonna end."

"We'll learn how to control it, okay?" I say softly, stroking his smooth hair.

"I'm sorry for doubting you. I didn't know and didn't realise . . . "

"It's alright. I'm happy that we're clear now."

"Max," he says quietly, his voice gentle and soft. "Tell me something I won't forget. But if you ever change the past, and somehow, I won't be able to remember it . . . You'll have to say it again. And it'll all come back to me. This way, I'll–"

"I'm here for you," I say, "Always. No matter if you'll remember me. As long as I remember you."

He looks at me for a longer while, doesn't speak, just looks. His expression doesn't change.

Then he leans in and places both of his hands on my face and kisses me.

"I've missed you so fucking much," he gasps, placing another wet kiss on my lips, but I hesitate for a second.

 _I have feelings for him._

But I'm with Warren . . . _kinda._

 _I can't . . . It's not fair._

I pull back, looking away. "Nathan . . . " I say, clearing my throat. "I don't–"

"I'm so in love with you, I only just realised that, I'm _soooo_ fucking stupid,'' he bites his lip, shaking his head gently as he closes the space between us, kissing me again, and I allow him.

His touch is everything I desired, our kisses passionate and hungry, struggling for breath every time our hot lips meet.

It's too good to be true. _Am I imagining this?_

* * *

A knock on the door wakes me up abruptly.

I look at my phone. 9:45 a.m.

 _Oh shit!_

Another knock.

I get up quickly, but I end up tangling myself in a sheet and I trip, falling with a loud bang on the floor, just like yesterday.

Talking about yesterday . . . Nathan wakes up, making _the most sexiest sound ever._

"Max, you alright in there?" Warren. _Shit, fuck, what the hell, what's he doing here?!_

"Yeah! J-Just a minute!" I answer, biting my lip. _No time to waste_ , I begin searching the floor for my clothes, and I hear Nathan shifting.

"My, my . . . What a wonderful morning sight," he says, and I turn around so quickly that something in my neck snaps, sending shot of pain through my back.

"Please, be quiet," I whisper, embarrassed and knowing he's looking at my body as I cover myself with the sheet, my whole face burning.

"Is someone with you?" Warren asks, and I nervously get up, hurrying to the wardrobe.

"N-no, why?" I shout, putting on a random t-shirt, with no time to think about the jeans.

"I just thought I heard somebody . . . " Warren's becoming suspicious and I bite my lip, meeting Nathan's confused, and unhappy look.

I do what I can to make myself look less like a mess, and I quickly go out to the hallway, closing the door quickly behind myself.

"I forgot to set the alarm," I explain, trying to pull the t-shirt down to cover my pink underwear. "What's up?" I ask as normally as I can, my hands shaking so much I have to hide them behind my back.

"I thought we could go to school together. And I also couldn't wait to see you," as he says that, a faint laugh comes out from behind the door and I have to giggle to cover up the sound.

"Are you sure you okay?" He asks, rising one eyebrow and I grip the doorknob with both hands, knowing Nathan's listening closely and can open the door by accident.

"Yeah, uh, I, um, I've been doing homework . . . _I mean_ , research all night and I'm super tired." _Truth is, I've been making out with Nathan for a whole night. I'm surprised we didn't take it anywhere more than that, but I'm happy that we're taking things slow._

More laughter. I kick the door.

"I'll wait for you if you want," he says, but I can't really concentrate on his words. "What research have you been doing?"

The door opens with a force and I stumble back, falling right into Nathan-fucking-Prescott wearing only boxers.

"We've been doing some biology," he says with a smirk and I nearly faint of embarrassment.

* * *

 **A/N: Rewritten.**


	11. Chapter 11 : The Embrace Of Safety

**A/N: DO NOT PROCEED WITHOUT READING THIS**

 **LIKE FOR REAL**

 **DON'TTTTTT EVEN TRY**

 **OK, so after years of break, I'm back and I have REWRITTEN THE WHOLE STORY so if You're reading this story from the beginning, sorry, but You'll have to read it from the very beginning. The first chapters were like literally rewritten from scrap, like what was I thinking when I first wrote them wtf. But now that it's like slightly better than it was before, I highly encourage You to read this story (come on, I've spent like, 10 minutes on it, lmfao nice joke buddy, I've spent like months on a single chapter.) But yeah, let's move onto the story, shall we? :^)**

 **BTW I have created a poll that You can find on my profile (or at least I hope, 'cause that's the first poll I ever created and don't know how to use it D:) which is basically like an idea of me writing this story BUT in Nathan's POV. If You have enough of this story then surely I won't do it, but Your votes & opinions are very well appreciated.**

 **To this one hater who said my writing is 'horrendously atrocious' - lmfao I know, that's why I've rewritten it - You mind if I use Your words in my story? Nah? Cool, thanks, makes my job easier.**

* * *

Chapter XI _, The Embrace of Safety. (aka Salty PvP)_

* * *

The scene seems like a slow motion. Maybe it's just me slowing down time in hope it'll make it less true than it is.

Warren's hurt expression pierces me with pure disappointment; there's nothing I could possibly say to make it go away. His usual cheery, smiling face is now replaced by a torn up look of his brown, judgemental eyes.

He realises what I've done, but doesn't hate me for it. _At least not yet_. Firstly, he has to clearly think through _why_ I've done it. He'll fail. He wouldn't know why on earth I'd even let Nathan touch me.

'Why would you do something so _horrendously atrocious_ to me?' His look asks, but I'm unable to give him an answer. He'd hate me if he'd knew the truth.

I blink. Only now I realise I've been holding my breath.

And then the guilt hits me. _Hard_.

"I'm so sorry . . . " Ashamed whisper escapes my mouth as I avoid the eye confrontation, hands pulling at the t-shirt, the nakedness of my body burning my conscience and pride.

Nathan fakes a taunting laugh. "Oh, _don't_ be. This is _amusing_." I glare at him deadly, shocked by his immaturity in this situation.

"Warren, I–"

" . . . 've been screwing other guy," Nathan adds, which causes Warren to lunge forward aggressively; I step in front of him, steadily but scared.

He looks at me instantly in surprise, which soon changes into anger and his gaze intensifies as he walks off in a hurry.

''We haven't slept together!'' I shout after him, trying to make the situation better.

''At least not yet,'' Nathan whispers into my ear and drags me into the room, the door shutting itself with a loud slam. I nearly lose the balance as he releases the grip around my wrist.

"I can explain–" I sound pathetic. Guilty. Naive, even.

"Explain _what_ , exactly? That you've been banging other guy? Warren Gayram, huh? _Seriously?_ " I can't tell if he's angry or amused or _both_ at the same time. And he has every right to be. I have hurt both of them in the worst way possible.

"I–" There it is again. My another attempt at trying to justify myself.

"So _that's_ how you've been entertaining yourself while I've been away,'' he chuckles without humour, something in his eye dying out, like a light.

"That's not–" He pulls me closer by a hand, staring right into my eyes, but I look away and he moves my jaw to face him, so I angrily do so.

''Look, I'm a virgin, I haven't slept with _anyone_ ,'' I say annoyed, looking away once again.

He doesn't speak for a while, and his gaze softens a bit, looking away embarrassed, quickly releasing the grip on my face.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, stepping back, massaging softly my reddening skin with his thumb.

Something in me breaks under his touch. "I'm so sorry, Nathan," I say, breaking into a cry. "I've just . . . you weren't here and I thought you'll never come back and after Chloe's death I've been so lonely and–" He moves me closer to him to embrace me into a tight hug and I wrap my arms around him, quietly sobbing while he's rubbing my back and kisses my forehead.

"It's alright," he slowly pulls me back, carefully smudging away the tears from my face. "Get ready for school, we're late," and he walks up to the bed, silently picking up his clothes and watching him is so painful, because he looks so pissed off, the muscle in his cheek raging, but he doesn't say anything, doesn't even look up.

As I walk to my closet to pick out some clothes, I notice with the corner of my eye that he stopped moving.

"Do you . . . do you _love_ him?" The question is so sudden I look at him, but he stares at the floor and begins to put on his shoes.

I slowly trace the soft material of a blouse hanging among the other shirts and jeans, my eyes blank, staring at nothing in particular.

"Love is a strong word," I finally say quietly, thinking deeply. Do I _love_ Warren? "No. I don't _love_ him. But I can't say that I don't have feelings for him either," I pick out an outfit and move unsurely towards him, settling myself down on the bed.

He's fully clothed now and gets up, not looking back at me.

I say, "Take care," But he's already gone.

My chest tightens and I harden the grip around my clothes, soon enough weeping again. My actions and their consequences are killing me, _but who's to blame_? No one else but _me_. I've brought it upon myself and now _I_ shall deal with it.

Unsurely, I hold my right hand before myself. _Do I still have the powers?_

An awful, pulsating pressure in my skull forces my hand to drop, and I stare at it, terrified. I've stopped the time _without_ intending to. _Am I losing control?_

Something drips onto my upper lip and I know straight away it couldn't be anything else than blood. I am now standing in the hallway, back where I was just few minutes ago.

I look at Nathan desperately, but his body is still, eyes staring at me. Then, he slowly blinks and I gasp, falling backwards into my room, the time moving along again.

 _Wowser._ I've still got the power.

Nathan's reaction is fast, although to me, it feels like I'm being dropped into a deep water with stones tied to my hands and ankles.

Warren's eyebrows twitch as he reaches out to help me up but Nathan shoves him away with such force his body clashes against the wall with an instant bang.

"Stop," I mumble weakily, wiping the bleeding nose with my hand while Nathan's body intensively tenses, ready to unleash his anger upon Warren.

But Warren's had enough already. He steps forward, and so does Nathan. Warren's fist misses the other boy's face by centimetres as Nathan dodges and I reach my hand up again.

I shout with as much energy as I have on top of my lungs. "I said, stop!" My vision blurries with red light, a terrible sound almost destroying my hearing.

I don't know what I've done; as I stare at them, horrified, I know that I've somehow _froze_ their bodies. They are a _still image._

Dana's door opens and I quickly collect myself, focusing on my power. With an unpleasant feeling in my arm, they're in action again, but Nathan backs away to me straight away.

"What on Earth is going on here, you guys?" Dana sighs, glancing from Warren to us, inpatiently.

I meet Warren's eye. He looks at Nathan in fury, then moves his eyes to me. His look changes from hurt to disappointment and walks off in a hury.

I've managed to trap in time only those who I wanted to while everything else was happening around them. _Holy shit_ , did I just discover my new _ability?_

Nathan closes the door, ignoring the complaining girl outside and looks at me petrified; I stare back. After a moment, I exhale all of the pain and close my eyes shut, lying back.

 _I can't believe this've happened. I can't believe I've used my power. The consequences will be greater than the last ones for sure . . ._

"Max?" He whispers quietly. "Max, you alright?" His fingertips are slightly brushing against my shoulder, causing a shiver down my spine. I open my eyes to look at him deadly. Then everything overflows me and I burst out crying, covering my face with my hands like a baby.

"Max, it's alright, all's good. Nothing will happen, I promise. Max, I promise you," he tries to make me look at him, but I desperately try to keep my eyes shut. "Max, I can sense your actions and their consequences and there's none, Max, it was nothing . . . It was _nothing_ . . . " He offers a hug, I bury within his safeness.

After about five minutes my breathing is finally even and there's no tears left for me to use. "I'm so sorry for what I did."

"What? _Froze me_? Trapped me in time? Nah, all cool, Max. All cool," he laughs it off, his hands shaking.

"I didn't even know I could do that.''

There's a long pause between us.

" _Why_ did you rewind?"

"I didn't!" I protest. "That's the thing . . . I just reached out and it happened."

"Maybe wanting to rewind was enough to make you do it."

I bite my lip, letting it sink in. He's right. Maybe I haven't accepted not being able to fix my mistakes with time yet.

"Don't overthink it, though. It's probably nothing we couldn't deal with."

Having him supportive in this situation is the deadliest weapon to my heart.

"Now I have to dress all over again," he sighs, running a hand through his messy hair.

"Sorry," I smile reassuringly. Rewinding has its flaws for sure. But seeing Nathan undressed, only boxers protecting him from nakedness doesn't count as a flaw.

"I think that you're not sorry at all, Caulfield," he notices me staring and smirks, for which I look away innocently.

* * *

As I walk into the science lab, I can instantly tell Warren's not going to forgive me so easily, as he's sitting in the _back_ , with _Brooke_. _This_ have never happened before. Sure, we had argued, but he never moved a seat and we've managed to make up before the lesson had even ended. So, this is a sign shouting in my face that he doesn't even want to _try_ to talk about it.

I look at him, and he stares back, angrily, and for a second I hesitate, wondering if I should talk to him now or later, but as I'm late, I'm not in a much of position to do so. Besides, I don't want to give Brooke the satisfaction of hearing us argue. Or rather him, shouting at me.

So I sit on my own, knowing Brooke's eyes are piercing my back with satisfaction.

* * *

As the bell rings, I quickly get up, heading towards Warren's table, but Brooke've read my mind as she already pulls him by his arm out of the classroom, making a snark comment about unwanted people wanting to make contact with him. To my surprise, he doesn't hesitate.

* * *

At lunch it isn't much better. As I try to open my mouth, Brooke cuts in, suggesting changing the place to hang out as some 'mindless slut' wants to spread the disease, sucking their brains out because she - _me_ \- doesn't have one and _holy shit_ , I wanted to punch her in the face so badly. But I'd get in trouble so I went for my reinforcements instead.

* * *

"Okay babe, don't you worry your little pretty face about it, have a chit-chat with your boyfriend and I'll be right back," Victoria says sweetly and gets up, heading towards Brooke and Warren who are sitting on the lunch table talking passionately about something while I settle down under a tree, next to Nathan. _Oh please_ , I roll my eyes.

 _You can't stand that girl, yet you pretend to be interested in her just to get on my nerves._

But . . . _what if he isn't pretending and this is not just an act?_

Since Brooke isn't scared of me, I've asked Victoria for a helping hand. Maybe I'm desperate, but I can't let her stop me from talking to him.

Nathan's voice sets me back to reality. "This shit's gonna be good, take your camera out," he smirks, crossing arms and I smile, not because Brooke is going to get owned, but because Nathan seems to be very understanding in this situation, and mature, too. After all, I did _technically_ cheat on him, although he is still here, loving and caring. He's getting better at anger managing, too.

"I wish I could," I say quietly, looking down, missing taking pictures with my camera. Until I'll be ready to face my fear, the eyes and imagination will have to do. I wish I had confided in him sooner, but I'm nothing than trouble to him and asking for help would be perhaps not the best solution, especially not when he's still recovering from the awful place he's been at and attending therapies that will, finally, help his mental health.

"What's up, Max? I haven't seen you with a camera since, _eh_ , fuck knows when, but then again, you don't have a single picture hung in your room," he says with a soft expression, looking at me worryingly. It's sweet of him to notice.

"The Dark Room," I murmur and he slightly furrows his eyebrows, a single curve appearing between his eyebrows. "It gives me nightmares; I fear that my power tricks me and traps me inside of a photograph or–"

I don't get the chance to finish. "Why didn't you say so sooner?" He leans forward, his expression displaying an annoyance, which shapes into amusement. " _Max Caulfield_ _scared_ of _taking pictures_ , fucking hilarious!" He laughs like a crow, and I can't be mad because his laugh causes me to chuckle. "Let's take some pictures after school," he suggests after regaining himself.

I raise an eyebrow. "Together?" I wanted to observe him work. Watching another photographer in action always fascinated me.

He shrugs. "Well, yeah, I guess. Maybe I'll even convince you to go digital."

"No way," I state the obvious, offended. _My polaroid camera is all I need, thank you very much._

Spending some time together would be nice, _especially_ after the whole Warren situation. And if he will, in fact, help me, I would finally be the old Max Caulfield. _Well_ , at least partly. I think I'm more grown up now.

"I think she's nearly done," he says, his head pointing at Victoria. "You can go talk to him now." The way he says it makes me guilty, and it's good because guilt teaches us that we're only human.

"Thanks," I get up.

"For?"

"Not beating the shit out of him," I reply with a small smile. I've seen the look on his face that told me how much he'd like to do that. Repeatedly. Sometimes I don't get men. They think the only solution to their problems is nothing else but violence.

I close the space between myself and the three of them, Victoria's raised voice meeting my ears. And by the look on her face you can just guess how much she's enjoying herself right now. But that's the type of girl she is, and for once I'm thankful for it.

"–so don't you think you're pretty special or anything, because you're not."

"What exactly is your problem, Victoria?" Warren asks, but doesn't or maybe doesn't _want_ to notice me.

" _Oooh mYyy GooOd_ , _my_ problem? _My_ problem is that _you're_ a fucking _pussy who_ can't even fucking face the girl you're obsessing with since like, _forever_ and then one thing she does wrong you run to your little side bitch that looks like she's out of some fucked up dimension of nerds."

"Really, Max? You can't even talk for yourself so you have to ask your little slave to help you out?" Brooke speaks up with her usual saltiness. "Warren really had to be desperate," she sighs.

"Oh he _definitely_ is now," I roll my eyes and Victoria laughs loudly.

The blonde doesn't waste a breath. "You fucking stay away from him you salty bitch, because I know where you sleep. So does Nathan. So if I were you, I'd consider stop following him around like a dog, because girl, he doesn't _want_ you."

"Considering that this is the school grounds and you're threatening me, I can simply go to Principal Wells and get you two nut-jobs expelled," she answers back sassily and I exchange amused glances with Victoria. I know that she'll show Brooke how ridiculous her talking-back was.

"Go on, I'll watch you walk. Oh wait, I forgot that _sluts_ can't walk because their lips are too fucking loose and you can hear them flopping against each other," Victoria shouts out, attracting the attention of few students nearby. I have never heard her say anything like that before. She must of gotten it from Juliet. _Okay, that was gross, but funny._

"That's disgusting and sounds more like you," Brooke sasses back, her voice slowly losing confidence. There's two of us and one of her, and Waren isn't exactly helping her out which must have upset her.

"That's actually _sad_ , you actually believe that Warren _likes_ you? Don't you think it's weird that he ' _likes_ ' you now, that Max has dumped him? Oh girlie, you are adorable. I can assure you that he was definitely not thinking about you when he ' _made love to_ _her_ '–"

 _Oh my God_ –

"Fucking beat it, you skank," Victoria contains herself in a second, judging look on her face, and Brooke gets up, red faced, Warren wanting to follow, but Nathan grips his arm, yanking him back to stand where he was.

 _When did he come up here? Did he hear the embarrassing bit?_

I'm _so_ against the bulling, and know this was really unfair and rude, but I won't have her drag him away from me every time I want to talk to him.

And maybe it's true that I'm not as loud as Victoria and need a helping hand, or two, but that's what friends are for.

"Please, hear me out," I say, and the boy looks at me, jaw clenched.

"What is _happening_ to you, Max? You say you _like me_ , you _make me_ think you _like_ me, and when things are getting really good for us, you fucking sleep with _him_? With the guy that fucking shot your best friend?!"

There was no need to say it. I understand that he's angry, furious even, but reminding me of Chloe was a really dirty move.

Nathan's fist clenches, but I reach for his tensed hand, softly looking up at him.

"Give us a minute, please," I say, and he stares at Warren for a longer moment, but finally relaxes his hands, linking our fingers for a second before walking off with Victoria, giving us needed space.

"This is so fucked up, Max," Warren's tone is filled with disbelief, and I don't judge him, because it's true.

"You don't understand." And you wouldn't.

"What's there to _understand_? You went to bed with a psychopath. Of course, _no biggie_."

"Me and him were together before all of that happened. I should've of never kissed you in the first place–" I immediately regret my words, so I bite my bottom lip. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make it sound like that–"

"Oh no, Max, you _perfectly_ knew what you were saying. It's OK. I _loved_ you. But you didn't feel the same way about me. That's okay. No harm done."

I look at him weirdly. "Wait, what?" He _never_ told me he _loved_ me.

"This morning I wanted to finally say it . . . that I love you . . ." He chuckles without humour, covering his face with one hand and I open my mouth, but there's nothing I could say to make things better between us.

"I . . . I do have feelings for you, Warren," I say weakly, touching his arm but he steps back. "I guess I have feelings for the two of you . . . " I say quietly, realising how dumb that sounds. "I'm so sorry, Warren, _you_ don't deserve this. _I_ don't deserve you," he looks at me, tears in his eyes, so much pain hidden in them. "I'm so sorry. I wish you the best with Brooke. Or whoever else you'll be interested in. I'm sure they'll treat you better." With that, and a sad look on both of our faces, I walk off to Nathan and Victoria, he observing me, she chatting occasionally.

* * *

"It belonged to Chloe. It . . . it was a gift from her," I say nostalgically.

His blue eyes study the item in his hand like it's a treasure, and hands me his own, digital camera.

"Add this one to your collection as well," he says boldly and I look at him like he'd just lost his mind.

"Nathan, this thing costed more than everything I own, and it definitely isn't safe in my hands without my rewind power," I say, like stating the obvious, but he just shrugs, putting the polaroid back into my hands.

"No giving back now," A smug smirk spreads across his face and I sigh, carefully putting the 'gift' into my bag, and we head to the campus, the beautiful sunset making the perfect scenery for our little photo session.

"What are you gonna photograph?" He asks as we stop, and I look around.

"The usual," I shrug, but he senses my lack of enthusiasm. "I have no idea how to use your camera, though. I mean, there's like _million_ buttons," I say, confused with the object as I take it out.

He stands behind me, his arms around me, showing me how things work. "You ready?" He asks, and I nod, my hand slightly trembling as I press the button, taking a picture, and . . . _nothing happens_. I'm standing where I stood. I'm safe, I won't be stuck in a photograph.

It takes me some time to maintain it, but as I do, my passion for taking pictures returns and I take shots of _literally_ everything, impressed by the amazing quality of the shots and the storage, I mean, it's quite a shock to me because I've always used films and they're so damn expensive and hard to find that it makes me think twice if I'm definite about taking a certain picture.

The time flies by so quick that the fact it's already dark only occurs to me when I look around to find Nathan.

"Show me your shots," I say, settling myself on the ground next to him. I'm slightly nervous of looking at the pictures, because they could suck me in but I manage to brush the thought off.

The first one's in black and white of a bug turned on it's back, unable to turn itself back onto its legs.

"Did you help it?" I ask, but he shakes his head.

"If I did, it wouldn't be able to do it again on its own," he answers seriously and I guess he's right. I look at it again, but nothing happens, so I'm guessing _I can control it_.

The second shot is in black and white as well, representing a fly stuck in a web on a tree. His shots are depressing, yet true.

The rest of the pictures, are surprisingly, all of me, in colour. They all show me focused, taking shots of things with his camera. I look at him, with an raised eyebrow.

"It's hard to concentrate when you're around," he smirks and I nudge him with an elbow, smiling. "Show me yours," he says, and I hand him the camera.

He watches the shots of leaves flying in the wind, the beautiful sunset, the landscape of the school, and many else, since I've lost myself in my love of photography.

"You should hang them in your room again," his suggestion causes me to bite my lip as he holds the camera before us, taking a picture. "And I'll hang some in mine."

We sit in quiet for a while, watching the stars, and I reach for his hand, grateful to have him with me.

"Thank you for helping me," I say quietly.

He tightens the grip of our linked fingers, as a way of saying _me too_.


End file.
